


A pencil can move on its own

by WiredRoses



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Architecture Student!Jeno, Art Student!Jaemin, Fluff, I might add Markhyuck, M/M, NO !! SMUT !! ZONE, Na Jaemin is Whipped, Soft!Nomin, i decided to add markhyuck heh, iDK tho, nomin, yep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-07-11 01:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiredRoses/pseuds/WiredRoses
Summary: There’s nothing in the world Na Jaemin loves more than art.That’s the motto he lived by, and continued to live by, ever since he was a child. But, oh man, Lee Jeno makes that very difficult.So he combines the two, making Jeno his art. Secretly. And it’s all fun and fine until he messes it up.





	1. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaemin tries to be inconspicuous, Renjun makes it difficult.

A pencil can move on its own.

That was the only thing he had ever discovered on his own when it came to art. As long as there was a desire to create, any tool would bend the rules of reality. One second he was the driving force of his drawing’s direction, the next, he was here, watching the determination of his pencil as it branded a shape into a page of his sketchbook and then filled it with life through every different medium he scratched. Capturing the shadow and the light of the image in front of him; picture perfect, as it should be. Only, there was no photo in front of him, no still, perfect image. And he found that his reality worked that way— unpredictably. It was how everything remained just a touch more interesting.

It was also the reason Jaemin did his sketches with a certain degree of caution; there was no way he would survive were his model to turn just forty-five degrees to the right. Because it was, in fact, a more not-so-makeshift-and-without-consent model. To be fair, the topic of his artwork had never said _no, you can’t draw me,_ and he probably would never say that; Jaemin just never found the courage to confirm his prediction. So he opted for the more… stalker-y way. From a distance. Hiding behind the A3 that was his sketchbook.

But such minor inconveniences should never disrupt the process of creating art, really, Jaemin’s professor would be proud of his mindset. Maybe. He tried not to dwell on that, instead, he would dwell on what was in front of him.

The library was graced with particularly warm lighting today, the sun’s rays being filtered through the milky beige of large windows. The floor to ceiling bookshelves seemed drawn to them, the dull carpet almost ridding itself of years of dust and poor treatment. Laminated, redwood furniture lined the windows, desks and chairs completing the typical university library setting. But it was made brilliant with the perfection of the sun’s light.

That light found its way into the hollows of a left arm holding up a thick textbook and a right arm propping a head up, it washed over the outstretched legs, crossed over one another and resting on the desks in front of him. And it was impossible, or it should have been, that the softness of the light somehow made the boy’s honey skin glow brighter than the sun itself. A sensational setting such as this one was incomplete without a centre masterpiece. Lee Jeno was that masterpiece. One that Jaemin could never stop himself from engraving into paper.

“Unsurprising,” Jaemin flinched at the sudden break in his moment. Easily recognizing the flat tone, he turned to give Renjun a glare, but he was quick to whip back, just to make sure that there was no reaction on Jeno’s behalf. He was lucky; relieved, he fixed his glare back on the newcomer. Renjun stifled a laugh but he definitely shut up. “We’re going to be late.”

Jaemin pursed his lips, unhappy that his free time was being cut off, but he slipped his private sketchbook into his bag, nevertheless. He stole one last look at his crush before sliding out of his chair. Once he and Renjun were— presumably— out of Jeno’s earshot, he hit the former. “He could’ve heard you?!” His raised voice at the end made it sound partially like a question. Renjun rubbed the exposed part of his bicep.

“I wasn’t loud.” They walked around the stream of students heading to their respective classes and lectures. “And you do this so often I’m sure he’s seen you.”

Jaemin pouted, he was extremely careful and Renjun was the only person who knew he did this. Well, he supposed Donghyuck had found out, too. But it was still his secret and he was good at keeping it. Besides, he kept two different sketchbooks, one for his uni work and one for himself, he never parted with the latter. “No way,” he squeezed through a couple holding hands, “I’m extremely inconspicuous.”

This earned him an eye roll. “Whatever you say.” Renjun looked at him lazily as they entered the art department and took their usual spots near the back of the room. “It’s going to backfire on you one day, mark my words.”

Jaemin really hoped that foreshadow was a fictional concept.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

To be entirely honest, the first time Jaemin met— or rather, saw— Jeno was pretty fuzzy, and it was no special experience, either. It was a bit weird, considering this was the biggest crush he had ever harboured for someone. He remembered arriving at his dorm on his very first day of freshman year and Donghyuck dragging him out so they could sign up for activities. They had been walking through the crowded club fair grounds in the main plaza and he was just… there. In all his— at the time— blonde glory. Looking like a greek god. He recalled a faint, “who is that?” and a clear, “Oh he went to Mark’s high school, I think. I met him once… uh… his name was… Lee Jeno!” What were the chances?

Contrary to the popular belief among his friends, it was not _love at first sight_. Honestly, he had just found the blonde hair with black clothing standing directly below the sun quite breathtaking as a scene. He had an artist’s eye, he loved seeing the contrast of colours that somehow blended into something tangible and beautiful.

They ended up leaving quite quickly, fleeing back to the safety of their dorm; social anxiety was exhausting. Moments after they returned, Jaemin had taken out his brand new sketchbook— the class ones had yet to be given out— and drawn from memory. Though he knew how unreliable memory could be, this drawing was beautifully accurate to him. It became a freeze frame in his life, as so many things would become.

Classes had begun and he threw himself into his work; not encountering Jeno again, truth was he forgot about him. He was just something beautiful that had come and gone. Even the sketchbook he had drawn Jeno in lay in his room, untouched since that first day because he had no need for it anymore with the school’s required one. That was, until nearly a month later when he was studying alone in the library, Donghyuck and Renjun having ditched him for a club, and he saw him. Or, he saw the blonde hair, bobbing up and down, earphones dangling as he listened to music. He was writing something, presumably studying.

And it was so peculiar, because he was sitting in front of the towering red bookshelves that they had in one of the corners of the library, nobody thought they fit in with the aesthetic of the place at all and yet, someone had approved them. Jeno was just sitting in front of them, and the more Jaemin stared, the more he noticed the beauty in the contrast of the dark red and the dark red of his notebook, where everything else was black, grey, white, and brown, that made the image before him so interesting.

He went back to his dorm later that day full of righteous, studious intent, but the image seemed to cling to his memory. So he got out the sketchbook, brushed off the slight layer of dust that had accumulated without his constant use, and drew him.

After the fifth time of the same process, Jaemin started bringing his personal sketchpad around again. He saw Jeno more and more frequently, perhaps, because he was looking for him now.

The months that followed were the times when Jaemin got to know Jeno, through his actions, not his words. They never so much as exchanged a greeting. He found Jeno had _a lot_ of friends, it was almost like he had new ones everyday, he also saw the little quirks in his personality that became very interesting to Jaemin.

Animals, he loved animals— especially cats, he would always stop to play with the stray ones around campus— he was extremely talented in several sports, though he seemed to prefer football above all, there was absolutely no one he failed to smile at, a blinding, beautiful, breathtaking eye smile. Jaemin caught it all on paper, where he cherished the unspoken muse of his art. Jeno was kind, attractive, funny, smart, talented, and it wasn’t long before Jaemin fell for him. Pretty hard. Not love, nothing like that, just a crush, a phenomenal little infatuation.

Discovering this had also led Jaemin to other smaller revelations, like how his sketches and paintings of Jeno had changed. While it had begun with realism, it developed into the freedom of some levels of abstract. It was like he had begun to pour his own interpretations into his work. He used a number of different styles and tools, and while the pages showed how much he had improved, there was something so nostalgic about his very first sketch. The softness of his skin and hair coloured with a pencil, nothing special and yet, it was so essential to Jaemin, so important.

And it was last August.

Two months since he had decided to call it a crush, but over seven months since he had first seen him. There were likely a hundred drawings by now. He was beginning to run out of pages.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

It was only half an hour into their class and their professor had managed to mention the submission deadline date for their art showcase twenty six times. Jaemin had counted.

‘The Spring Arts Showcase was an opportunity for every student’s work to be featured’— at least, that was what the teachers claimed. The truth was that was just supposed to get everyone’s hopes up about submitting a piece of work, it was required to do so but only seven pieces of art from each of the Department of Fine Arts’ majors was actually presented. That meant, seven pieces of work from his Visual Arts course of over three hundred and ninety students would actually be selected and showcased to a wider audience. It was a brilliant opportunity for student’s work to be featured that much was true, but it was only a brilliant opportunity for the most _talented_ student’s work to be showcased.

Jaemin toyed with shading the edge of his uni designated sketchbook. _Shading_ was a loose term he was using in his mind for the random colouring he was doing with the pencil he had. He was bored, the submission date was set for this afternoon at five p.m. and it seemed apparent to him that nobody had actually finished their work for today.

Well, except maybe Renjun, who he observed was acting very calmly in comparison to at least ninety percent of his class. “You finished?” he decided to confirm.

“Over the weekend, yeah.” Renjun nodded. Not unexpected, Renjun topped their class grades in every assessment. “Did you?”

Jaemin grinned widely and he saw his friend shut his eyes and put his hand to his forehead, clearly completely done with his friend before he even spoke. “Finished last night!” he proclaimed and flipped his sketchbook to the page of his best work yet.

Renjun leaned over and looked at it thoroughly, he then nodded appreciatively and said, “It’s really good, wow, shock, coming from you, I expected you to submit a Jeno piece,” to which Jaemin hit him on the shoulder. It was a classic, anticipated line and Jaemin had been prepared to hear it, but they both knew he would never use Jeno as an official piece of work. That was both invasive, problematic, and overall weirder than what he already did. Besides, the piece he was actually submitting was something he had worked so hard on.

The Spring Arts Showcase in particular was the only one where they were given a loose prompt that was up to the students to interpret. This time it was _something only you find beautiful_ , which was a terrible prompt in his opinion because how would he know if he was the only one to find something beautiful. Logically speaking, there was no way of knowing.

With the submission they were required to write a small sentence beneath that justified their choice of drawing. All the work was hung up anonymously, so only the justification remained below.

Jaemin had, in all his confused-about-beauty glory, selected a baby angel with a violin statue that sat in their library. It was hideous, it was completely hideous, everyone thought so— he, Renjun, and Donghyuck had made some especially crude remarks about the atrocity. The only reason he had even selected it was because he knew _no one_ would draw that, there was not a single person he knew that found that thing anything but weird. Himself included. He decided to submit the justification of _I see beauty in this because I’m religious and angels are god’s gift_ , which was, of course, completely untrue.

His teacher would likely see right through him. Not that it mattered, he would never be selected for the showcase, anyways.

“I think it’s my best work,” he added, grinning wider.

Renjun rolled his eyes. “In terms of technique, definitely, but c’mon, don’t you have more inspiration than this?”

Jaemin just shook his head. “This is the best, don’t worry.”

“If you say so, dude.”

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Three hours later and Jaemin had found himself enjoying his free time in the library, once more. Actually, he sat right in front of where the ugly baby angel statue sat on top of its ugly pillar. It was truly a monstrosity in every aesthetic way possible. There was a small pole that stuck out from the thick rectangular pillar, it was the part that the angel was actually sitting on because it was supposed to give the illusion that the angel was _hovering in the air_. It really failed to do that. Any artist would despise the colours and shape of it. Which is why he was going to submit it.

Technically, he was allowed to give his work in before the deadline this afternoon, but he decided he would take one more look at the statue during this lighting before he submitted it in less than an hour. He looked back and forth between his work and the real thing until he settled upon a few minor changes he wanted to make to better capture the essence of it.

He’d been editing for around twenty minutes or so without looking up that he missed who walked in. Or rather, he missed who walked in and sat down directly in front of the angel statue before him. It was another five minutes before he glanced up and finally saw Lee Jeno. His breath stopped a moment. He always looked more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen.

Jaemin kept blinking and staring at the boy before him. There was something about the way he was seated, right below where the pillar ended and the angel begun, that made it look like it was flying above him— much more than any pole could— playing him music and getting ready to bless him with something new. Jeno was at a perfect angle where his hair just almost fell into his eyes and just went down the line of his ears. It may have been one of the most phenomenal sights he had ever seen, from both an artist’s perspective, and a crush’s.

So, of course, he took out his other sketchbook where it was tucked into his bag and began to sketch it in front of him. He drew the thickness of the shapes he saw, shaded the parts where the light accentuated his beauty, and in the end, coloured it lightly with a few neutral tones from his pencil selection.

He sat there long enough that the sun was beginning to show signs of resting for the day, the lighting had changed more than enough to alter the image were he to continue drawing, so he decided to call it quits. It seemed he’d been quite lucky in his timing because he glanced up again and Jeno slung his bag over to leave.

Thinking it may be a good time for him to go to— he recalled he had something he was supposed to do but he was struggling to remember specifically what— he began to pack his own things. Until Donghyuck plopped himself down next to him and immediately looked at the drawing Jaemin had just completed.

“Is this for the Arts Showcase? Oh, wait, too many people find him beautiful, so this work wouldn’t be eligible,” he wiggled his eyebrows. Unfortunately for Donghyuck, he’d said it in his normal speaking voice and all talking was banned in the library between five and six in the evening since that was when all the major study kids— taking classes Jaemin could never imagine even breathing on— ended their final classes of the day. So obviously, the librarian with the apparent supersonic hearing glared at Donghyuck and pointed at the clock which showed _5:01_ exactly.

Donghyuck made a face at her when she turned away and Jaemin had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. He brought his hand up to shush him before he decided to keep his rebellious streak and speak again, Donghyuck rolled his eyes and made a question mark sign with his hand, he still wanted his question answered.

He thought for a moment, but Jaemin brought out a finger to tell him to _hold on a second_ before reaching into his bag and taking out his stack of post-it-notes. He pulled one off and stuck it on his latest drawing of Jeno in his personal sketchbook.

 _I bet billions of people think he’s beautiful, but I’m the one that searches and continues to find_ _him the most beautiful, that’s how I would justify this piece,_ he wrote.

Donghyuck snorted and reached over Jaemin to grab his own post-it-note.

 _You’re too whipped for your own good, I can’t believe I just had to read that_ , Donghyuck responded with and Jaemin swatted his shoulder. He seemed to be good at hitting people today.

He was about to write a question on the same post-it when he saw Donghyuck was already writing on his, but this time with a frown on his face. He waited a few seconds before his friend finished and read:

_Dude wasn’t your actual work due at 5?????_

Jaemin turned so fast to look at the clock and, to his immense luck, it was 5:03 p.m. He quickly shut his personal sketchbook and shoved everything into his bag, not taking into account where he put the stuff that was usually so organized. The uni book was always in the front, the personal book was always in the back, and the rest of the stuff was in the other compartment. It was a system, but right now that system was the least of his priorities. He may actually get a fail on the semester if he fails to submit this.

Sprinting through the hallways was one of the most chaotic experiences he’d ever had in this university. Not only did he bump into at least twenty people, he also managed to knock the glasses off one person which he thought was difficult since he had come from the _front_.

He slid around the corner and made the final dash to his classroom where his professor was just packing up.

“Oh, Jaemin, you made it,” his professor seemed very genuinely shocked with raised eyebrows. “I thought you wouldn’t, honestly.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late let me just get out my—” Jaemin fumbled in his bag about to flick through to get the sketchbook to rip out the right page when his professor cut him off.

“Look, I’m already really late for my next meeting can you just give me what you got and tell me what to look for in your sketchbook?”

Jaemin immediately complied and handed him the first sketchbook he grabbed. “It’s the one with the angel statue from the library, the justification is written on it!”

“Okay, thanks, gotta blast, though,” his professor lifted his coffee mug and practically _ran_ out of the room. Jaemin let out his breath, very pleased he had made it. A sense of fulfillment took him over as he left the room and began walking back to his dorm room. Today was a good day, he would no longer have any pressing assessments for the next few months.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Saturday came as a blessing to Jaemin, all the stress he had felt about his project was gone and he was left only with a feeling of bliss. He was sure that once his other courses’ assessments would start he would feel a sense of impending doom, again, but right now… right now he could breathe.

Though he had woken up only an hour ago, he had made quick progress to shower, brush his teeth, and scroll through FoodPanda to see what he would get for lunch— a twelve p.m. wake up time was extremely healthy once a week, it was _self-care_ as he like to put it. Now, waiting for his sushi to arrive, he resorted to playing a terrible game on his phone that involved a lot of shooting.

He was about to definitely get the killshot on the enemy when he received a phone call and he felt like snorting because nobody used phone calls anymore except for—

He sighed when he saw Renjun’s name as the caller I.D, of course, only _he_ would call Jaemin on a Saturday. Groaning, he picked up the call.

“Hello—” he started but was cut off in less than a second.

 _“Jaemin? Holy shit, Jaemin, dude, bro, pal, Jaemin, holy-y shit.”_ Renjun did not say this in an excited tone which immediately worried him.

“Dude, what?” he asked, hoping to get a clearer answer because Renjun sounded very out of breath.

 _“What the fuck did you submit for the Arts Showcase?!”_ he practically screamed into Jaemin’s ear.

Jaemin furrowed his brows, confused. “What do you mean what did I submit, I submitted the angel work I showed you.”

 _“That’s the problem, Jaemin! Your work was hung up! You’re on the showcase board!”_ Renjun screamed again, and Jaemin felt like he should be acting beyond thrilled at the news but something about Renjun’s tone tugged at him and told him to wait a moment before celebrating, not to mention he called it a _problem_.

“Well I’m extremely happy but why is that a problem?” he asked, honestly.

 _“Because you submitted Jeno!”_ Renjun hollered.

“Jeno? No, I submitted the angel, I told Professor Lee specifically that I was submitting the one with the angel and that my justification was on there.” Jaemin would not allow himself to feel panic yet because it was probably just Renjun messing with him.

_“Well I have no idea what happened, but this is definitely Lee Jeno with an — oh my god, Jaemin, that’s Jeno with the angel!”_

Jaemin hung up the phone and jumped, high off his bed, and he hit his head on the tall lamp that stood beside it as he dove for his bag and frantically ripped through the contents of his bag before bringing out the sketchbook that was in there.

Shaking, he opened it, he felt his heart beat in his throat as he turned to one of the random pages and—

Sure enough, the one he had was his university sketchbook.

He’d submitted his personal one.

With Lee Jeno and the angel.

Which he told his professor to submit.

He had no idea what the justification was, because he was sure there was nothing written on that page, but this was enough to make the blood rush around his body at impossible rates. And Na Jaemin passed out on his own floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm writing another fic rn but while I had no wifi for two weeks I was stressed about school and idk I thought of this because nomin is cute and I'm not
> 
> So ENJOY
> 
> I'm trying to use it more so: [follow me on twitter!!](http://twitter.com/wired_roses)  
>  


	2. Wondering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeno is paranoid, but not for the reasons he's expected to be.

He blinked once, slowly. Waited a few seconds. Blinked twice, slowly. Waited another minute. Blinked thrice, ever so slowly, trying to give his eyes enough time to declare what he was seeing in front of him to be untrue. 

They didn’t.

Jeno cocked his head as he tried to analyze every little detail about the painting on the Spring Arts Showcase board. The display was impossible to miss, since the Arts degree was highly valued in this particular university, the administrators spared no dollar on making their showcases legendary. It stood right in the centre of the main entrance to the school where— and he wished he was kidding right now— every single one of the thirty-two thousand students walked by at least three times a day. 

And he was on it. Rather, he  _ was _ it. 

It was not, however, his drawing and that’s what made the situation so much more peculiar and confusing because  _ someone had drawn him and submitted him as their work. _ That was his own  _ face _ , and as if that miraculously failed to be enough, he was the  _ centrepiece _ of the whole showcase display. 

There were at least a hundred students currently surrounding it and pointing at the picture then back at him and whispering to their friends. 

“Dude,” his own friend sounded just as bewildered as he felt, “that’s you.” Mark ended with and another person snorted.

“Of course that’s him, Mark,” Jisung shoved him so he was now standing next to a still bawking Jeno. “Why are you so good at pointing out the obvious?” 

“I’m just saying!” Mark gestured vaguely at the display before pointing directly at the words written above the seven pieces of work. “And look at the prompt. “Something only you find beautiful”? Someone definitely has a crush on you, Jeno.”

“Okay, but to be honest that means that everyone else except that one person finds you ugly Jeno, sorry.” Jisung supplied, not sounding remotely apologetic about it. 

Everything they were saying was simply flying over his head anyways, he felt physically unable to concentrate on anything other than the work before him. Not sure how he should feel, he turned to raise an eyebrow at the rest of the audience that had seemingly abandoned looking at the actual work in favour of staring at him. They all immediately found something else to focus on. 

He angled himself back toward the submitted piece. It was a drawing done in led but coloured in lightly with different coloured pencils. He had to admit, despite how unnerving it was to see himself up there, the work itself was quite brilliant. The artist had captured things only an artist could see, the light, the contrast of colours, and most of all, how perfectly that ugly angel statue hovered right over him. It kind of hurt him that he had no idea who had done something like this, especially since he knew what day it had been drawn.

Last weekend he’d made a bet with with Chenle that if the other boy’s photography pieces were not selected for the showcase, then Chenle would have to purchase a piece of clothing in green— which they had both decided was not his colour. However, much to Jeno’s dismay, Chenle’s photograph exhibition made it right into the fifth spot on the display leaving him to have to purchase something in red, which they both knew was a colour he looked absolutely terrible in. And he’d only worn that shirt once in his entire life because he had run out of clean clothes after he’d forgotten to wash them.

He only wore that red shirt yesterday. 

Which meant this was drawn… yesterday. 

There were a million times in his childhood that he’d worn a red shirt and it had proved to not suit him time and time again until he got the message. But this piece of artwork somehow made it look like he belonged in that colour. And he would never know how the artist had achieved that, because he had no idea who it was.

Grasping at his memory, Jeno tore through every encounter he had or every person he’d seen while he was at the library yesterday but he found nothing. Sure, there were a lot of people that talked to him but he knew where the person must have been sitting to get that angle and he wished in that moment that he had been more aware of his surroundings. Internally cursing himself changed nothing. 

It did, however, fuzz his concentration and his eyes subconsciously drifted downwards to where the justification was hanging below the work. He read it over without thinking much about it, then he read it again, slightly more aware of what it said, he read it one more time and felt a rapidfire of blood fly up his face and colour his cheeks. 

“Holy shit, Jeno, you got so red,” Jisung said as he poked at his friend’s cheeks. Jeno did nothing to swipe him away as he would normally do, he could only stand there and read over and over again how the person had justified this piece. 

_I bet billions of people think he’s beautiful, but I’m the one that searches and continues to find_ _him the most beautiful, that’s how I would justify this piece._

He felt the solemn piercing gaze of someone on the back of his neck and he whipped around at a speed that should have been impossible because something in the back of his head told him that it was _the_ _artist._

But all he saw was a hundred eyes avoiding looking where he stared back, making it literally impossible for him to know who it was. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Jeno was on edge for the next few hours, feeling like he was missing everything that was going on in his life if he’d somehow failed to see a person  _ drawing him _ in the library. He went to class paranoid about what else he could be completely oblivious too. What made matters worse was he could no longer seem to fight a strange tingling at his ear that told him someone was watching him. 

He sighed inwardly, he had the tendency to make things sound so much worse than they were. The truth was, he was mostly flattered, the only thing that concerned him was whether that was an acceptable response to this situation. But then…

Someone found him beautiful. Should he not be kind of thrilled about that? It definitely should not be up to another person to decide how he felt about something and yet— it kind of mattered what everyone else thought about him. And how he should react.

Maybe if he tried to find out who it was he would feel better about it. Maybe. So that’s what drove him to stroll right up to the heart of the art department and open the first random door tentatively. One of the professors was tapping aimlessly against the wood of his desk.    
“Uh—” Jeno started, not really sure how he wanted to introduce this. “Hi,” he settled on adding, dumbly. 

The professor looked up and blinked twice. “Oh! Hello,” he smiled warmly and yet his eyes flickered back and forth between Jeno and the sketchbook on his desk. “Can I help you with something?” he definitely recognized him.

Jeno decided to just go for it. “Yes, actually,” he walked over timidly when the professor waved him in, the door shut almost soundlessly behind him. “I just came from the display from the Spring Showcase and I couldn’t help but notice the centrepiece was… a drawing of me…” he shrugged to make it seem casual. The professor signaled him to continue, suggesting Jeno’s point was yet to be clear enough. “I was wondering who drew it?”

The professor— Professor Lee as he’d just read— blinked once. “Were you not informed of this prior to the student’s submission?” Jeno pursed his lips at the way he’d avoided saying the student’s name, but he shook his head in response. “I see,” he rubbed his neck. “Unfortunately, I am unable to disclose the name of the student.”

Jeno had been expecting this. It was, after all, an anonymous display until the award ceremony where the student who got the centrepiece could decide whether to accept it with their name or not. “Okay, but, isn’t it against school policy to submit a piece without permission of the subject?” he pointed out. 

Professor Lee nodded once. “Yes, that’s true,” Jeno opened his mouth to add on but the teacher cut him off. “However, as you may know, the department of arts has completely revisited it’s outdated policies and as a result, many are still in the process of being changed to fit with overall school ones,” he added, sounding like he felt a little bad, “I had the student’s drawing reviewed by our ethics counsellors and the arts department itself and they all agreed it was an acceptable piece, it fits in the grey areas that exist between modifications taking place.”

So, not only was a drawing of him up there without his permission— it was also legally  _ allowed _ to be there, which meant there was literally nothing he could currently do about it unless he complained enough to the head of the board. That seemed extraordinarily petty and it had yet to bother him enough to force his hand in doing that.

“I don’t really mind that it’s up there or anything,” it was honestly the truth, whether the piece would be taken down or not was not what he wanted to get out of this. “I just want to know who it was since it’s well… me…”

The professor nodded, solemnly, and Jeno already knew what the answer would be. “Sorry, but like I said before, I’m unable to tell you that right now,” he still gave a smile. “However, all the names of the winners will be announced during the awards show, so if the artist wins, then you’ll get to know.”

Jeno internally sighed, this was exactly what he hoped would not come up. The awards show happened at the end of the academic year and all the students studying under the faculty of arts were allowed to attend along with several acclaimed real life artists from different areas of expertise. It was quite possibly the most grandiose occasion for any of those students. But that was just it, it was for  _ those _ students. He— much to his current dismay— was not one of those students. “I’m an architecture student under the faculty of urban studies, not art or fine art…”

“Ah, I see,” the professor thought for a moment, “I don’t think I would be able to help you, then, but I’m sure if the artist were to win it would spread around— we are, after all, in the age of social media,” he added with a kind smile. 

Jeno had thought of that, and it was definitely true. The problem with that was the awards show was at the end of the year, meaning another four months before he would only  _ potentially _ find out. There was a drawing of him out there  _ right now _ , how could the concept of ‘maybe’ be enough?

Despite where his thoughts went, he knew there was virtually nothing the professor could do about it without breaking teacher’s code and revealing the name of the student. He gave the professor the kindest smile he could. “Thank you, I guess I’ll wait.”

He was going to have to try to find the patience for that.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Jeno chewed on the back of his pencil, a habit he’d picked up in the fourth grade back when pencils had ferrules. Unfortunately for his teeth, the habit had transferred from classic pencils to mechanical ones and not only did the action now lack the relief it used to give him, it also properly damaged his molars. He let out a long sigh as he forced himself to stop for the fifth time in the past three minutes. 

It was beginning to near noon and Jeno had yet to find a solution to his mind frantically searching for answers where he knew he’d find none. It was trying to tear at even the memories he shoved far into the back of his mind to see if there was literally  _ anyone _ that he had the faintest recollection of that sat in the library with him.

So far, his memory was falling flat. 

He lifted his gaze and searched the surrounding tables, hoping the artist would just show up and start drawing him again. But real life was different from fiction, different from stories, and most of all, real life was different from everything he hoped for— because real life, well real life sucked sometimes; this was definitely one of those times.

The architecture assignment he was trying to do was woefully lacking the attention he needed to give it in order to get at least a passing grade. Introducing interior design into his ambitions had been a mistake and he was beginning to see the consequences of that; the main one being that he always felt too preoccupied to bother adding any. 

That was the thing about Jeno, he knew himself well. Not that any regular person had no idea who they are but Jeno felt he knew his strengths and quirks exceptionally well. Which is why he knew that, right now, even though he could not stop thinking about the anonymous artist of his profile, it would only last, at most, another day or two before he lost interest in the whole ordeal. Unless some striking information was brought to the table, there was nothing he could do about how fast his interest faded. 

It was too difficult for him to find a grasp on the things he enjoyed doing so he let them go, slowly. And when he’d found this out about himself, and he’d realized there was nothing he could do to change the psychology of his brain, he accepted it. 

He changed the way he worked, the way he interacted, and most of all he changed the way he dated, and he kept that way of living up until and beyond the point where he applied for university. Because he knew exactly that if he applied for one of the many things he loved in that moment, he would end up being bored out of his mind when he followed through with it. So he challenged himself, applying for architecture because, well, he’d never so much as looked at a floor plan before so he knew that his future self would be  _ excited _ .

Though it was exhausting thinking so much about how he would react to something in the future, it was the only way he thought he could live. Nothing had worked so well for him before he’d learned about himself. Acceptance and awareness of one's quirks were the only way to regain control over a life. 

That was what he’d done, and now he could sit here and stress for the time that his mind would allow him to be stressed for. 

He glanced around at the tables again. Not empty, but there was something nagging at him saying they were all the wrong person. Trusting his intuition was something that came naturally to him, but every time he looked up, he hoped it was wrong; maybe then he would see who he really wanted to see.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

One-day-and-sixteen-hours-later and Jeno was beginning to feel the effects of exactly what he knew would happen. The idea of someone finding him so beautiful just a mere two days ago was already beginning to blend into the reality he was confined to. It just became another aspect of his life that had come and was one its way out of the door. 

He welcomed the slight change in stress, he knew his future self would definitely appreciate that he had begun to lose interest. When he recalled the drawing now, he thought less about the identity of the unnamed artist and more about how different it was from the rest of the works. 

It was the only one of a person. Perhaps, if he were to search through the hundreds of pieces submitted, he’d find more drawings and paintings of people but none of those were chosen. Just this one. Just him.

He shook his head. If he thought about it too much he might accidentally find something new and it would trap him inside a cage of  _ interest _ . With his own assignments and exams coming in the next few weeks he simply could no longer afford to focus on everything else. 

Besides, there was an upcoming game against a team this Friday that had the whole school on its toes. The team was notorious for its untarnished record of no losses this season. It would be one of the most difficult games they’d play this year and Jeno was not about to lose focus on how much it mattered to him that he be proud of himself after the game. 

“Okay, but hear me out,” Mark began, bringing Jeno back to the present and Jisung banged his head on the table, to which Mark responded by smiling through the pain, Jeno, being the best friend he was provided a snicker. 

They were gathered around one of the tables in the courtyard, where their group of friends always went for lunch. Surrounded by the open corridors of the school’s brick foundation, it was the perfect place to sit if one wanted something aesthetic. Jeno particularly loved it because it was in the middle of everything, like if he was there, the whole world could continue to move around him and he could always be without a care, addressing his friends in the middle. 

“Haven’t we heard enough about this topic from you?” Jisung grumbled and Chenle hummed his agreement which the rest of the group he was sitting with ended up chorusing. They were probably about twelve in total and definitely sat at one of the larger tables in the courtyard, but since this was by far the most popular place for lunch at the university, all the tables were filled with probably a few hundred students at least. It could become a bit chaotic and Jeno tried not to let that get to him. 

“Okay but if someone has a crush on him—” Mark began again but Jisung cut him off this time. 

“I’m not really interested in who has a crush on him right now, because it’s impossible to find out who it is,” Jeno expected him to stop there but he turned on him, “I’m more interested in who  _ you _ have a crush on.” Jisung pointed directly at Jeno.

He snorted. “Me?” he raised an eyebrow, confirming what was already made clear, “you know I don’t like anyone.”

Chenle shrugged. “You don’t have to have a crush on someone, but if you had to choose someone who you think is the prettiest or you wouldn’t mind dating, who would it be?” he asked, gesturing around the courtyard. 

“Why would I answer that?” Jeno genuinely asked.

“It’s harmless, just fun, I’ll do it too if you want,” Chenle grinned. 

“I already know who you’d choose, stop being lame,” he pursed his lips and his friend giggled.

Chenle leaned forward and tapped his forehead. “Stop stressing so much, answer, child,” Jeno gave him a pointed look that screamed ‘I’m older than you’. He was, however, too weak for Chenle’s smile.   
“Fine, fine,” he rolled his eyes but turned toward the rest of the people, trying to pinpoint who he would basically be confessing to be the hottest person here. Never would he be bothered by this, after all, it was nothing but a random question, his answer held no weight.

He continued to scan the area, picking out a few people here and there that he found physically attractive— with almost absolute certainty could he say that he did not know all their names— there were a few girls sitting by the table closest to theirs that he could point to, they were quite cute, there were a few in the back as well that he had nothing against. There were even a few guys that made his quick little mental list, one in particular had very brightly coloured red hair, he liked the interesting colours on people. 

Jeno had just decided he would point to one of the ones he’d seen at random when someone showed up at the table and slammed a piece of paper down in front of Mark. He turned back to where Mark’s eyes were wide with shock whereas the rest of the table were completely unsurprised at the intrusion. 

It took him no more than a millisecond to remember this was Mark’s best friend. “Sign.” Donghyuck commanded and shoved a pen in Mark’s hand. 

“What is this for?” Jeno never understood how they were such close friends but, then again, he and Donghyuck were not very well acquainted so why should he know? He’d only met him maybe once in high school and then a few times when he’d come by their table here at uni. What he  _ did _ know was that he was Mark’s best friend for possibly his whole life, even if they had different friend groups now. 

“I need permission to use photographs of you and I from our childhood,” Donghyuck explained, poorly. Seeing Mark’s confused expression, he continued. “It’s for a small showcase, apparently I am not allowed to use them unless I have your direct permission, so sign.” He elaborated but the commanding tone remained as he watched Mark sign the sheet. 

That was about when Jisung piped in. “How come that random person didn’t get Jeno’s permission to draw him and submit him for the Spring showcase, then?” he grinned directly at Jeno who threw an empty milk carton at him.

He almost missed it, but Jeno could have sworn he saw Donghyuck’s hand twitch before he took back the form from his best friend and walked off. Jisung was in the process of complaining about the milk carton and getting ready to throw it back but Jeno was busy watching Donghyuck walk over to his apparent own table. There were less people sitting there and it was around a bush which made it almost impossible to see from where Jeno himself was sitting. He counted another person there when Donghyuck moved to sit down but he saw the leg of a third so he leaned backward enough to see around the edge of the bush and—

“Definitely him,” Jeno said as he returned back to his normal position seconds after. His other friends shot him equal expressions of bewilderment at the random statement. “The person that I would choose? Definitely that guy at that table,” he nodded in the direction of where Donghyuck had gone.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to Donghyuck? Because I’m going to go ahead and veto that—”

“No, no, no, the guy with the pink hair who’s sitting around the— you can’t see it from this angle just lean out and you can see him.” Jeno showed them an example and they all followed suit. It took them a few moments before they saw.

Once again, Jeno had to reiterate that he knew, perhaps, a hundred out of hundreds or so names outside from the table he was currently sitting at, the person he was calling attractive was not one of those names. But he was by far the most good-looking person he’d seen at the university yet. He had beautiful eyes, for starters, something very uniquely charming about them, and a nose that suited the structure of his face so perfectly it only made him look like a model, and of course, the mouth, he’d managed to see him while he was smiling and Jeno could swear right then and there that he’d never seen something so angelic. 

“Yep, every other visual is cancelled.” Jeno nodded in determination as he returned to his sandwich that had managed to fall apart even though he had barely touched it. Since he was so busy scowling at his food’s disaster he missed the way Chenle cocked his head at him. 

“Honestly, I thought you’d choose a girl, pleasant surprise,” he smiled, widely. “Good choice, though,” he added and Jeno snorted. 

Not really bothering to linger on the current topic— because, let’s face it, saying someone was hot meant nothing in the 21st century— he flung his hands up in exasperation. “Can someone help me with my fucking sandwich?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please enjoy ! 
> 
> [please comment if you have literally anything to say, they really make my day even if they're just a few words <3]
> 
> I'm trying to use it more so: [follow me on twitter!!](http://twitter.com/wired_roses)  
> 


	3. Evading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Donghyuck gives Jaemin a hard time—out of love, of course.

It was by some miracle that Jaemin had only been passed out for a few minutes, though he had awoken with a brutal headache. The first thing he did once he’d orientated himself and checked that all his brain cells were still, to some extent, functioning, was look at the time on his phone—that had fallen next to him when he’d collapsed—before he took off in a sprint. Directly to the art department.

There were already thousands of students walking about and he cursed himself to the fires of Hell that he’d woken up so late on what had turned out to be such a crucial day in his life. He ran and ran and ran, dodging every soul that stood in his way but before he could make it to Professor Lee’s office, he stopped still at the display board. 

He stopped, maybe his breathing stopped a little too because right in the middle of the mass that had gathered around  _ his _ centre drawing, was Lee Jeno. From the angle he was standing at—almost directly behind him—Jaemin couldn’t see his face, so Jeno’s reaction remained a secret for the time being. 

He was surrounded by his friends, their names were something he forgot but they were the ones that continuously scanned around the area, as if trying to spot the artist for Jeno. Jaemin noticed that where ever they looked, people avoided their gazes, as if something about the ordeal frightened them enough. Jaemin’s stomach dropped to the bedrock.

They were  _ scared _ of him,  _ disgusted _ by him. Everyone hated him. 

And it was during that mantra of thoughts eating at the rational part of his brain that Jeno finally turned and looked around. It was a fraction of a second when their eyes met but Jaemin couldn’t be sure whether Jeno even registered it or not.

In the end, it was the same as everything else that happened in his daily life: pointless. Just as he felt. He swallowed the saliva that had built up in his mouth and found that it hurt to do even that. But this was not the time for him to mourn the loss of his social skills—with that in mind, he headed toward the art department once more.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Why was it that everything he tried to fix in his life suddenly found some magical way to become entirely irreparable. That was, quite possibly, the only thought plowing through his mind at the very moment Professor Lee said “Jaemin, I can’t take it down.” He felt his stomach coil, an unpleasant sickening feeling fastening itself into his skin.

It occurred to him that he should’ve prepared himself better for an answer like this. It wasn’t unexpected, it was simply rather underwhelming to be rejected. His disappointment intruded his rational thinking, clouding the judgement he would normally rely on that told him: don’t be too defeated by this. Instead, all he thought about was what he would do now, his mind immediately flying to future implications that this meeting gave way to. 

The sketch would remain up. Everyday, Jeno would walk by and see himself on that giant board and everyday he and every other student would think about the disgusting human being that invaded the privacy of another student. 

There was no part of him that even considered any other reaction. 

Professor Lee—whose face betrayed the concern he felt for his student—wasn’t done. “I mean, I can’t take it down without a serious reason.”

“Does complete social failure count as a serious reason?” Jaemin asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

A tight-lipped smile and an “Unfortunately not” from his Professor had him crumbling in his resignation. There was nothing about the situation that made him feel content with his position. Moments like this were where he knew precisely what it meant to know when you’ve lost.

“But, Professor Lee, he has no idea that it was him what if he complains and wants it taken down wouldn’t that be considered a—” 

“He would have to verbally confirm that himself,” he simply said, “why do you want it taken down so badly?” 

Jaemin pursed his lips. “He doesn’t  _ know _ me, Professor Lee, like… at all. We’ve never spoken before and it just so creepy of me.” Had anyone else been watching the exchange, they would have been able to pinpoint exactly when Jaemin had a huge, sickening realization. His Professor seemed to have noticed it, too.

“What is it?”

Jaemin gulped. “Professor Lee… did you happen to see…  _ all _ of the sketchbook?” he tried to stay as calm as he could but it was difficult when his heart was pounding in his chest. If he’d seen all the drawings—

His Professor winced and Jaemin wanted to die. “Since you submitted the whole book and I had to find the one with the angel on it. Sorry, Jaemin.” He sounded genuinely apologetic but it would never erase the fact that he had seen every single drawing he had ever done of Jeno. “It wasn’t your uni book, was it?” 

Jaemin could only manage to shake his head. He was at a loss. There was so much  _ personality _ in those drawings it felt like he was exposing not only Jeno, but himself, to his Professor. 

“Then I’m sorry about that but,” he paused as if trying to let Jaemin catch up. Unfortunately, he was far too distraught to focus. He continued, anyways. “They’re your best drawings, Jaemin, the one that’s hanging up there is an amazing piece of work. You captured more than just the image, you captured the story and the emotion behind it all. That’s a difficult thing to do,” he reached forward from where he was leaned on his desk and patted Jaemin’s shoulder, “if anything, you should be more pleased with yourself.”

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

He was not pleased. Over the past week, Donghyuck had continuously expressed his enthusiasm for idea of Jaemin confronting Jeno, “please, can you just finally do it?” was now a phrase he heard at least five or six times a week. Though the beginning of his declines had been mostly polite, they had morphed into a lot of “shut the fuck up” and “I hope Mark puts you in a microwave”. Of course, these are only met with feline grins that occasionally prompt something being thrown at his friend.

As for real progress, Jaemin was—not at all—proud to report to himself that there was none. Not a waft of change other than, now, he had neither the courage nor the secrecy to go to the library and let off some steam and just  _ draw _ . Because, as all artists would know, styles were distinct and that only meant that someday—were he to just sit in the same spot he always used to—someone would walk in, either Jeno himself or a stranger who knew, and identify him as the artist.

Jaemin stopped drawing in public seven days ago.

The strangest feeling for him was how trapped he felt without the freedom to draw where he wanted. It was suffocating having to return to his room and sketch what he could from memory. Now, when he saw something beautiful, he clamped down on the desire to sit down, observe, then create on the spot. Because that was no longer an option for him. And it took a toll on someone who loved to draw reality in the purest form possible.

“Jaemin?” Renjun’s voice pulled him firmly back into the present. He blinked twice at his friend, who carried a concerned expression, and attempted a small smile. It fell flat, not even making it past the quirk of the corners of his lips. Renjun’s eyebrows contorted even more, amplifying the look of worry. “Do you want to go to the library?” he asked softly.

There was a moment where his heart fell at how much his friend cared even though he was just being  _ petty _ about the whole situation. How much did the things he love really matter? Drawing may have been his escape, but his friends were his reality. And reality should be valued more than anything. He shook his head and simply replied with, “it’s fine,” and it would be, eventually.

The simple fact was that all Jaemin had to do was find a new hobby outside of his room, at least, until the display was taken down and people no longer had something to compare his style to. Where he could return to everything he loved the most in peace. Well, he knew that wasn’t entirely true either. He knew he would have to stop drawing Jeno permanently.

Despite how much that thought bothered him, he knew that when it came down to choosing between Jeno and art, he would always choose art.

Renjun pulled back from where he leaned in and sighed. There were a few moments of silence before he slammed his hands down on the table. “Okay! New plan! Let’s find a new hobby!”

“You’re making it sound easy,” Jaemin snorted, “I invested my soul into drawing, dude, finding me a hobby isn’t gonna be that fucking easy.” 

But his friend was already shaking his head before he finished. “Nope, not just a new hobby for  _ you _ , a new hobby for both of us,” he winked, “we’re best friends, we’re gonna do it together.”

“You’re such a loser,” Jaemin said but he was grinning, widely. This was exactly what would always bring him back to a happier reality. 

“We’re both losers,” he returned the smile and whipped out his phone, “let’s bring in the third loser, too.”

Jaemin laughed, eyes shaping into soft crescentes as Renjun asked Donghyuck to meet them outside the student gym in fifteen minutes. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

“So you invited me here,” Donghyuck began, tone laced with distaste, “and didn’t even have, like, a tenth of a plan?”

Renjun nodded fervently while Jaemin just shrugged. They were standing outside the student gym—which Jaemin was positive neither of his friends had ever used before—for a grand total of seven seconds and Donghyuck had already found something to complain about. Later he would defend himself and say they were wasting his valuable time for a project, but right now, he only expressed his question of their stupidity. 

The weather was bordering on boiling and it was already causing little beads of sweat to form at his hairline. This was unacceptable. 

“Jaemin comes to the gym a lot, right?” Renjun said, gesturing to the bewildered person in question. “So, maybe you should make it your main hobby.” Donghyuck snorted and Jaemin just blinked.

“I don’t come that much.” 

“Dude, there is no way you got those arms just drawing.” 

“How would you know that? Do you know how much muscle it takes to hold a pencil?”

“Of course I fucking know how much muscle it takes to hold a fucking pencil I’m an art student, idiot.” 

Donghyuck, rubbing his temples, yelled “shut up!” which they did. A truly inspirational friendship. “Back to the gym idea,” Donghyuck continued once he was sure his friends were truly done, “it’s a terrible idea, I hate it. Veto.”

Jaemin cocked his head and Renjun gave a short, sharp laugh. “No, you don’t get to veto it, you’re here to support your friend during his time of crisis.”

“I’m just not in a crisis.” Jaemin supplied but was completely cut off.

“I literally don’t give a shit about what you think you’re in and what you think you’re not in right now, Jaemin, I’m doing you some good.” Renjun huffed.

Maybe it was how definitively he said the last part but it sparked a kind of challenge in Jaemin. “Fine, take it away, then,” he said, throwing both his hands in the gym’s direction.

Despite how confident Renjun had seemed—and how  _ un _ confident Donghyuck had seemed—it had taken both his friends no less than fifteen minutes before they were begging to be left off the hook. Jaemin only stood there and laughed at their dismay though he knew Donghyuck would likely have been able to hold out far longer and had just taken the chance to escape when Renjun broke. They’d done running on a treadmill for literally less than half an hour—which was the default time on the machines—Jaemin was embarrassed for them. 

“You know what,” he started between small chuckles, “maybe this isn’t the hobby for us. Don’t you think Renjun?” wagging his eyebrows for extra effect earned him a well-deserved glare from his best friend.

However, while he was making so much fun of them, he found the exercise had done nothing for him the same way drawing did. Scientifically speaking, it was one of the triggers for dopamine release and, thus, should be making him feel good, but it wasn’t the same kind of good. Even if he wasn’t thinking about Jeno and the whole catastrophe while he was running, it didn’t suddenly remove all trace of sorrow he felt—let alone remove it all permanently. 

No, he needed something that could fill up the little hole in his heart for more than three months, and realistically, it would probably help if it could be something permanent, too. Was it not healthier to have more than one hobby, anyways?

“It seemed like a good idea,” Renjun admitted, voice fighting its way through choppy breaths. 

Donghyuck hit his shoulder grumbling something akin to “I told you so”, which, admittedly, he did. It wasn’t long before he hopped up from the ground and brushed invisible dust off his shoulders. “This was a great experience, but I’m supposed to get back to my photography project.” 

“What project?” Jaemin inquired as he helped his still-floored friend up. 

Donghyuck shrugged. “It’s just about our childhood; how we grew up, who we grew up with, and how we are now,” he slung his camera strap, which had been carefully placed in the corner of the room, over his shoulder. He checked a few things to see everything was in order before heading toward the door, Jaemin and Renjun in tow; latter finally pulling himself together. 

“So I guess you’re doing a compilation of Mark, then,” the corners of Jaemin’s mouth quirked up.

Renjun backed him up; “of course he is, so very typical.”

They both laughed when Donghyuck whipped around, a pout on his lips. “Shut up, I knew him since I was little, it’s just logical,” he muttered only sparking greater laughter. How untruthful the truth could be, sometimes. 

They made fun of him a lot, he and Renjun, because it was times like this, where he reacted like that, that made them think there were some underlying bits and pieces of feelings between Donghyuck and Mark that were left in an incomplete puzzle. Maybe, just maybe. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it was logic that solidified your choice.” And Donghyuck hit Renjun. 

Since Jaemin and Renjun had really nothing to do with a plan that had so obviously failed, they followed Donghyuck who, apparently, had to go see Mark to take more recent photos of him. “He’s at football practice right now, so I’m just going to go there.” 

“Okay, but why would you need photos of him playing? You definitely don’t play.” Renjun pointed out and Jaemin hummed his agreement. They walked along the ivory coloured path—a terrible colour choice especially heading toward a muddy field—after picking out an ice cream to share at the corner store next to the gym. It was, as Donghyuck had put it, a  _ reward _ for their ‘hard work’ though Jaemin had difficulty figuring out what ‘hard work’ his friend was referring too.

They walked slowly, not in any particular rush because “Mark always plays the full games, so I’ll get pictures no matter what, anyways,” but Jaemin was for more concerned with the knot in his stomach that was starting to form the closer they got to the high fences of the campus stadium. Jeno played on that team, too.

Jaemin had seen maybe three or four games before, he detested hot weather and football as a sport never really interested him very much. He only went those few times because they were the bigger games Jeno was supposedly playing. This time; however, that terrible feeling in his stomach was screaming at him to go back, to not let Jeno see him. He knew, knew so well that Jeno had no idea who he was an yet… it was always that fraction of uncertainty that tainted the whole image. 

He said nothing, though, because Donghyuck would only ridicule him to disguise his concern and he couldn’t take that right now. Maybe later he would stomach it, just maybe.

To their surprise, mostly Jaemin’s, they arrived before the game even started—really weird considering how slowly they walked, but they soon found out it had been delayed due to a few players missing. They were about to climb up the seats, trying to snag places as close to the front as possible when Donghyuck suddenly turned around and hopped down what they’d just climbed. Renjun quirked a brow before realizing he was headed towards Mark who was standing at the base, watching the rest of his team warm up. 

Jaemin took the moment to note Jeno was presently nowhere to be seen. Perhaps, this would be easier. If he could just be here to support his best friend’s best friend then—

God had a fun way of playing his tricks because in that moment Jeno walked out, and he didn’t just stroll onto the field in full gear—no, Jaemin was looking at a catastrophical tight shirt that clung to his lean muscle, drenched in either sweat or water, as Lee Jeno lifted up his arm to brush back the hair that had grown too long in the front. Jaemin was, maybe, a little bit gone, just maybe. 

“Well damn, dude, he fucked you over with that,” Renjun whistled from beside him and Jaemin groaned into his palms as he covered his eyes and clenched them shut beneath. He looked back up barely fifteen seconds later and watched as he walked over to where Mark was standing, latter handing him his proper gear and helmet. He nodded at Donghyuck, not in an unfriendly way but Jaemin knew they weren’t very familiar with one another. His friend gave him a tight lipped smile before turning to talk to Mark, again. 

And then another act of  _ some _ kind of cruel greater force shifted the tides and Jaemin watched Donghyuck’s lips form something along the lines of “Renjun and Jaemin,” and Jeno, who was listening in, turned around, gracefully. And their eyes met.

It couldn’t have been more than a fraction of a second but it was enough for the air to clog his throat and leave his lungs burning, enough for his heartbeat to increase to twice the speed it was before, enough for him to see the glint of recognition in Jeno’s eyes but he had no idea where that recognition  _ came from _ —

The moment was over. Donghyuck was climbing the stairs up to them and Jaemin could breathe. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Jaemin leaned back in his seat, legs crossed over in front of him as he watched the game with mild boredom. Football really was of little interest to him, he preferred the arts or the role of creativity in human life. So the game itself failed to captivate him and Jeno aside what  _ did _ pull him in was Donghyuck’s photography. He had no idea why he chose to photograph at the times he did but he always seemed to lift his camera right before something amazing happened. Like he could predict exactly when Mark would move. 

“Dude, how do you know when to take a photo?” he decided to ask.

Donghyuck raised one eyebrow but answered, anyways, “I don’t know, he always gets this look in his eyes like he’s gonna try something so I just decide to go for it.”

Jaemin hummed. “So… you’re watching him really closely then, yeah?” Renjun snorted making Jaemin grin wider. He saw Donghyuck’s hold on the camera twitch like he wanted to hit him, but made no final move to do so. 

“He’s a main part of my fucking project, idiots,” he chose instead and Jaemin held his hands up in defence.

“I never said he wasn’t!”

A silence passed over the three of them as their attention shifted back to the game, the crowd and other onlookers were erupting in cheers every few seconds so it made it difficult to think. Jaemin sighed, reigning his struggling thoughts back in and deciding to put more effort on the game. His tactic was pretty simple: look at literally anyone other than Jeno. So far, he was failing. When he forced himself to watch another player, he found his eyes would slowly drift back until they were latched on the boy he liked so much. 

What he would give to have his sketchbook with him right now. He stopped bringing it around after the incident and it was moments like this, where he saw the determination and enjoyment in Jeno’s eyes behind the helmet’s guard, that he craved it the most.

Finding a new hobby would be impossible if there was something he loved so dearly that came first. Perhaps, redirection of hobbies was not the key to his future happiness, after all. Big surprise there. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Renjun staring at him and as if he was reading his mind he said, “you know, maybe it’s not that you need a new hobby but that you need to change your current one.”

Jaemin tried processing that three times in his head and was about to comment on it when Donghyuck answered first. “Renjun, what the fuck? That’s literally the same thing.” Jaemin nodded.

“Yeah, okay, realized it after a few seconds,” he flung his hands out and Jaemin narrowly dodged it, Donghyuck wasn’t as lucky and he scowled at Renjun as his camera was almost knocked out of his hands, “what I mean is that he should just change the topic of his work.”

“How does that do anything? I can’t just sit there and suddenly change affections to a bunch of other people.”

“Yeah, so, don’t change to a bunch of other people, just change to one other person,” Renjun grinned.

“But that’s what I did before?” Jaemin shook his head but Donghyuck was tapping his chin thoughtfully. 

“Doesn’t the arts department have that ‘pay to be a model’ thing that a lot of freshman and second-years do?” he asked and Renjun gasped and pat him on the back. 

“That’s perfect, dude, yes, do that,” he nodded vigorously. The ‘pay to be a model’ thing, officially dubbed as the  _ part-time inspiration project _ —Jaemin found the name ridiculously dumb—was extremely popular in the first few years of university for both art students and the rest of the community. The gist of it was that art students could pair up with another student, from any department, and they would be their model for the remainder of the year. They would be the foundation for the art students to figure out what inspired them to create. The ‘models’ were also subsidized by the art department for their commitment, thus, making it a win-win situation and very appealing to broke first-years. 

Jaemin had never needed it before since his almost immediate attachment to Jeno, but he had to admit, the concept of it had the potential to be extremely helpful, especially in his situation. He let out a long sigh; the program was available throughout the entire year so he could sign up anytime. 

“To be honest, I’m not  _ completely _ opposed to the idea,” he thought aloud, “and since I don’t know what else I should do, should I just… do that?” 

“Yes.” Donghyuck and Renjun said simultaneously then high-fived one another and Jaemin rolled his eyes.

“The problem is finding a model, though, isn’t it?” he said, thoughtfully, leaning forward on his palms. 

Renjun, however, shook his head. “There’s a few sign up sheets outside Professor Jin’s class so you can just head there.” Jaemin was about to ask him where Professor Jin’s class even was when Donghyuck spoke up.

“Actually, I have a friend who needs a bit of money, right now,” Donghyuck snapped a few photos, leaving a kind of dramatic pause in his wake, “do you mind if I ask him for you?”

The ever-suspicious Renjun narrowed his eyes at the other. “Which friend…?” 

But Donghyuck waved him off, “it’s actually Mark’s friend, I forgot his name, I’m sure you’ve seen him before, though, Jaemin.”

Renjun raised his eyebrows but Jaemin thought nothing of it. “Sure, if we’re both helping one another out, then it’s fine,” he shrugged. 

Donghyuck put his camera down and turned fully to them both. “Great, I’ll tell him, does he just have to sign up?”

“Uh… yeah, I think,” Renjun squinted, “I’m pretty sure he just has to put his name under Jaemin’s.”

“Okay, cool,” Donghyuck said with some finality as he lifted the camera back up. The game was drawing to a close and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that their team was going to win. 

“Since it’s a pretty predictable outcome, I’m going to go sign up now, then,” Jaemin announced, picking up his shoulder bag as he stood up, “tell him to meet me tomorrow at eleven-thirty in the library—the study part, I’ll sit in one of the booths. Just, like, tell him my hair colour or whatever.”

Jaemin stepped around their legs, careful not to bump into any of the strangers ones as he strode off. 

“Sure, sure,” Donghyuck said without much commitment, “good luck.” Jaemin was about to ask what he was wishing him luck for but the other man had already turned back to his shooting and Renjun was engrossed in the game again. So he just left. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Jaemin hadn’t managed to sign up for the program yesterday beacuse, as he expected, he was unable to locate Professor Jin’s room. As it turned out, once he had texted Renjun with a lot of inquiries, Jin was short for Jinsoul who hated putting her full name on her class doors. Luckily, he managed to leave early enough this morning to complete the whole sign up which had turned out to just be a quick form with official contact details, since he still didn’t know the name of the person he was meeting, he left their part blank and hoped they would do it themselves when they looked for his name later. 

It was eleven-fifteen, Jaemin had arrived early, deciding to squeeze in a bit of study time for his other electives before his meetup. There were a few small projects coming up soon and with the course’s focus on portraits, this program could not have come at a better time. He really needed it. 

However, his ‘studying’ for other classes had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the lines of  _ analyze this extract with regards to the author’s poetic intentions _ , and he was now sketching facial features down the sides of the pages. Every stroke of his pencil avoided drawing anything he remembered of Jeno’s face because he thought that may be the worst thing for him to do. Instead, he found himself recalling Donghyuck’s eyes, Renjun’s nose, his mom’s smile, and his father’s ears. He wished he had siblings he could draw upon but, alas, he was an only child. 

He tried to remember Mark’s eyes, though it was understandably difficult to do given their minimal face to face encounters. By the time the borders of his pages were starting to become unusable, he noticed there were a significantly greater number of Donghyuck’s features than anyone else’s. Maybe he should give this to Mark. Jaemin snorted at the thought.  _ Maybe _ he should get started on his literary analysis, first. 

Just as he picked up his pen, again, he spotted a bit of movement out of the corner of his eye. Though he would normally ignore it, something about the way they were moving was familiar and it was headed in the perfect direction to where he was sat. But he didn’t look up, not wanting to seem desperate or creepy. So he kept his head down and focused on how terrible the poem was. 

He really had no idea how he managed to miss when the person finally sat down opposite to him, but miraculously, he did, he swore at the extract he was currently struggling with and pursed his lips. Only then did he hear a smooth, mildly well-known voice—though, softer and higher than he remembered it to be—speak out from across him. 

“Hi.” Jaemin felt his entire being shrivel up on the spot. Definitely, definitely, definitely familiar. His heartbeat picked up pace and it felt like hours before he finally dared to look up. He was face to face with the most beautiful eye smile to ever exist. His breath hitched and he failed to hold back a whimper. “Are you Na Jaemin?”

He had never seen a face that beautiful before—oh wait, he  _ had _ , for months and months. “Yeah,” Jaemin managed but it came out far weaker than he wanted.

The eye smile seemed to widen and he felt his heart weaken even more. “Cool! Donghyuck told me about your inspiration project, and he asked me to help you out,” and as if that wasn’t already enough for Jaemin to curse his friend to every Hell and every torturous afterlife he could think of, he added, “I’m Lee Jeno, by the way, it’s really nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello good great readers and such, I am trying to update monthly but I hate schedules because I suck at them : D
> 
> so please enjoy this chapter !! it's a little longer than my last 2 idk why
> 
> YEAH HAVE FUN and please leave comments they're my fav ;-;-;
> 
> [follow me on twitter!!](http://twitter.com/wired_roses)


	4. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeno, it seems, focuses far too little on first impressions.

Jeno had never felt so honoured in his life to have Luck rooting for him than in that particular moment he saw soft pink hair peeking out over the backboard of a library bench.  _ You really can’t miss him _ , Mark’s friend, Donghyuck, had said, and now he understood why. Jeno remembered him, of course; in fact, there were two instances that made it difficult to forget. One: pointing him out as the hottest person on campus, and two: making eye contact right before his game. Though, admittedly, the only reason he held that eye contact was because he remembered the former event. He felt lucky because the other boy was so easy to spot.

“Hi, are you Na Jaemin?” he asked, calmly recalling the name Donghyuck had told him before he came. The boy almost jumped, like he’d been shocked. He looked up and stared right at Jeno, but he held an expression somewhat akin to that of a petrified cat. Jeno hid his confusion behind a smile that he thought might calm him.

It didn’t. Jaemin’s “yeah,” came out far weaker than Jeno had hoped so he widened his smile. The boy opposite him seemed to crumple in on himself even more. 

Jeno grasped for any words he could, trying to fill the space that fold left. “Cool! Donghyuck told me about your inspiration project and he asked me to help you out. I’m Lee Jeno, by the way, it’s really nice to meet you,” he added quickly, really, really hoping it sounded less forced to Jaemin than it did to him.

Rule one of every new social interaction was to keep the tone light, it made you seem far more open and willing to accept the other person. 

That primary rule seemed to work a bit because—despite the slight purse in the other’s lips—Jaemin lifted his shoulders a bit and straightened his posture. Like all the gears had clicked into place and it was time for him to act like he should. “I’m Jaemin, yeah. Uh—” weird pause, “so Donghyuck went to you… directly?”

Weird wording. “I’m not really sure,” Jeno shrugged, after all, one should always reply in initial meetings even if it’s awkward, “he came to see Mark in the locker room right after the game, he just kinda asked me there.” The other boy hummed and nodded, but it was clear that he was making mental notes about something. Jeno just wasn’t sure what.

“Okay, I guess,” Jaemin twisted to pull out a notebook from his bag though when he placed it on the table Jeno saw that it wasn’t a notebook at all, but a sketchbook. It had the university’s logo on the front so he assumed it was provided by it. “Did you already sign up?”

“Yep, I did it before I came here,” he remembered a question he wanted to ask but suddenly felt nervous about asking it. Sadly, it was important. “I really, really… really hate to ask this, like, literally the first time we met but do you know how the subsidizing works?” it was difficult to make it sound natural.

But Jaemin just chuckled, softly and Jeno established he liked the way he laughed. “I’m pretty sure you get it at the end of every week, didn’t they make you fill out a form?” 

“No…”

“They’ll probably send an online one, then,” Jaemin hummed as he wrote down something in the top left corner of a blank page. Jeno had to stretch his neck but he he caught a glimpse of the words  _ broke _ and  _ blunt _ . 

“Wait,” Jeno winced, “please tell me you’re adding more to that.”

Jaemin grinned, widely. “It’s just that you made such an inspirational first impression by asking me that right away,” he twirled his pencil around, “and I’m supposed to be learning as much as I can about you as a person, so I had to write it.”

Jeno cocked his head, “aren’t you just supposed to draw me?” that was a weird question, he quickly added, “is learning about the other person really an official requirement?”

“If I wanna get a good grade, probably. Art reflects the artist’s feelings towards the topic of their work. So I think it would look better if I knew you.” Jeno had never really considered that, though he supposed he shouldn’t feel bad about that considering his major was entirely different. Yet he could see how they were related, to some extent, design elements and all. It made him think about how much a major could determine someone’s personality and whether Jaemin was what would be perceived as a stereotypical art kid or not.

“Then I want to know about you, too,” he eventually replied with as he dragged his fingers across the table’s surface, finding something to do with himself.

But it was that which made him miss the slight falter in Jaemin’s pencil movements, “Uh, I guess that’s fair,” he scribbled down something, it may have said  _ smooth _ but Jeno couldn’t be sure this time, he’d written so small. “What’s your greatest fear?” Jaemin suddenly asked and Jeno blinked.

Then he laughed, “wow, you really don’t want to start with something like ‘what’s your faculty?’” and, once again, he missed how Jaemin’s eyebrows shot up for half a millisecond and, again, he missed how he worked to school his features back into the expression he carried before.

“Oh, true, I guess we could start with that.”

It only made Jeno laugh even louder before he remembered where they were and let it fade. It was the kind of mild awkwardness that was endearing, he thought. “Do you want me to do the questions?”

“No, I got this, don’t worry,” Jaemin shifted in his seat and squinted like he was trying hard to come up with something so basic, “what’s your faculty?”

“Nice,” Jeno nodded faux-appreciatively, “Urban Studies, I want to major in Architecture.” He tilted his head to the side. “I guess I don’t need to ask you for yours.”

“I would be genuinely disappointed if you did,” Jaemin said with a certain added flair which people didn’t typically use in a first interaction, Jeno found it refreshing that he seemed to be so naturally candid. “What would you say are your main hobbies?”

Jeno thought about this a moment, “architecture.” An awkward silence followed for a few seconds.

“Just that one?” Jaemin finally said and quirked a brow.

“Well, no—” he tried to continue.

“Because, let me tell you, it’s not usually healthy to just have one hobby,” it came out as almost a scolding, “you should have a diverse range of activities you enjoy—”

“Oh my gosh, no, no, I have a lot of other things I like,” Jeno flung his hands out to emphasize, but it just looked like he was completely flustered.

Jaemin tilted his chin up. “Oh yeah, like what?”

Again, he had to think about this for a moment. “Like… avoiding… work?” he furrowed his brows, was he really someone without any hobbies?

Jaemin’s jaw dropped. “Procrastinating is not a hobby.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure.” Jaemin sounded like he may roll his eyes and Jeno grinned. It seemed like it would be very easy to like his personality. He wondered how easy it would be for Jaemin to reciprocate that, though he doubted his own personality was even remotely as interesting. “So you’re just going to leave out football or do you hate it?”

“Oh my god!” Jeno shouted, forgetting, again, that they were in a library. “Oh my god.”

“Is that an ‘oh my god’ as in, ‘yeah, I hate it’ or an ‘oh my god’ as in, ‘I’m such an idiot I can’t believe I forgot that’.”

Jaemin was still scribbling on the page, perhaps capturing every second though Jeno thought it seemed a little pointless to do so. “I can’t tell if you just indirectly called me an idiot or not,” he frowned.

This earned him a smile but Jaemin, apparently, was the type to keep someone guessing and was very much not the type to dwell. “So not many hobbies,” he scribbled and continued before Jeno had the chance to protest, “favourite animal?”

He decided to ignore that what he’d just written was factually incorrect. “These are primary school level questions,” Jeno observed.

“You’re the one that said I should dumb down the questions!” Jaemin accused and Jeno quickly shook his hands. 

“That’s not what I said!” 

“You rebutted my fear question,” Jaemin fired back.

“Dude that was just the worst question to start with if you’re trying to get to know someone,” the moment the words left his mouth he wanted to take them back. Not because he felt what he said was wrong, it was simply the first word he’d spoken that threw him off. Jeno had no idea if it was even appropriate for him to call someone he’d just met,  _ dude _ . Was it normal to overthink the minimalistics of speech?

Jaemin didn’t even blink. “You’ve answered one question in the span of ten minutes—”

“I answered two—”

“ _ One _ , question. One, I don’t think I can even count the second.” Jaemin muttered and Jeno pursed his lips, unable to argue because he happened to be very right.

“Then ask another one.”

“Fine,” Jaemin huffed, “what’s your favourite colour—”

“JENO!” A voice screeched from across the room and Jeno could practically feel the librarian’s glare at the back of his head, willing him to leave even though he hadn’t caused the latest disaster. He turned just enough to miss meeting her eyes but saw Jisung running up to him waving something aggressively in the air.

His jaw dropped and he quickly rose to his feet when his friend arrived and he got a closer look to confirm that he was, in fact, holding a pair of tickets. “You didn’t, Jisung, you didn’t,” his heartbeat picked up pace and he felt his skin prickle as goosebumps emerged.

“I  _ did _ ,” Jisung said, triumph and pride especially present in his face though it didn’t hide the slight mischief. And Jeno knew that mischief would be justified considering the concert tickets for IU were sold out for almost three weeks now and he had no idea how Jisung had gotten his hands on  _ anything _ .

Jeno looked at his hands in wonder, the ticket like gold that blinded him to everything else.

“Get your shit and let’s go, right now, and I mean,” Jeno looked up again at the sound of Jisung’s voice and he noticed his friend took a moment to glance behind Jeno, a faint apology lacing his gaze, “right now.”

It was only that look Jisung had thrown the other way that made him remember Jaemin and he turned around, already feeling guilty for having forgotten him. Jaemin looked extremely baffled when Jeno tried his best to let his arm drop as if he didn’t want to continue staring at the ticket like it held the key to the universe. “Um,” Jeno was unsure if he should just say goodbye and leave or find a better alternative.

It seems Jaemin didn’t know either. “Oh, um,” he reached to gather a stray pencil across the desk, “I guess we’ll just… meet some other time.” Jaemin quickly shoved it into his bag along with the sketchbook. 

“Yeah, uh,” why did it feel awkward now? 

“Bye.” Jaemin said first, with a smile, before slinging his bag over his shoulder and darting out of the library. 

Jeno watched him disappear and there was, perhaps, a second of awkward silence before Jisung said: “let’s go.” And they did.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Chenle slammed his hand down on the table, it emitted a surprisingly loud noise considering the surface was made of concrete. “Beauty is subjective!” he shouted, eyes blazing wildly with determination. 

“Subjectivity doesn’t make murder legal, Chenle!” Mark threw his hands out wide, “it just makes you sound weird!”

Jisung didn’t seem to want to let it sit. “Mark, you’re actually so dumb, Chenle never said he was going to try it?!”

How this had already turned into a war was a mystery to him, as they were everyday. Chenle would say something, Mark would call him out, and Jisung would defend him. It was cyclical, routinely, of course, it was always entertaining and he had to play his part:

“Very true,” he said, immediately backing up Jisung and Chenle, “jumping to conclusions is dangerous, Mark.” Chenle giggled. 

“Ah––” Mark scrunched his nose expressing his displeasure for their teaming up. “Thank you, I’m never getting a break.” His friend muttered as Jeno took out the sandwich he’d bought at the corner store earlier today. Shit. He, apparently, had accidentally grabbed the cheese one, which he absolutely despised on bread.

Pursing his lips, he lifted his head and asked, “do any of you guys want to help me out and trade lunches?”

“The fuck? Are we middle schoolers?” Chenle said and Jeno wished he had more understanding friends. 

“Cheese on bread is a monstrosity––” he couldn’t quite finish his thought.

There are hundreds of poems and poets who work to understand human beings, one of the most important and reoccuring themes is that of a ‘cyclical nature’. Jeno supposed that he understood that right when Donghyuck walked over and, as the timeless tale of cycles suggest, threw a stack of papers down on the table. Mark, true to his own nature, was surprised once more whereas Chenle only shifted the slightest inch to avoid being hit by him. “Sign.” 

“Seriously?” Mark exhaled, regaining composure, “again?”

“I know, right? I agree that it’s fucking ridiculous that I can’t even use photos of us that  _ I  _ took without getting your confirmation that it was, in fact,  _ I _ who took them.” Jeno noted Donghyuck was really brimming with annoyance and he had to admit that it did sound terribly frustrating. 

“Oh,” Mark picked up a pen without hesitation and flipped through the sheets, signing each of them quickly, “why are there so many, though?” 

“Professor Evelyn loves to print things and destroy the environment, apparently,” Donghyuck replied, instantly, though his eyes were wandering until they landed on Jeno’s now dismantled sandwich.

Jisung followed that trail and instantly piped up. “Do you want it? Jeno hates cheese and bread combined.” 

Donghyuck blinked while Jeno hit Jisung. “Yeah, so my friend is lactose intolerant and really hates when I bring anything that he can’t eat to the table so…” he trailed off before sticking his hand out, “I’ll take it.”

Jeno was taught to always snatch at opportunities when they presented themselves, so he was quick to put everything back together and into the paper bag before Donghyuck could change his mind. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Donghyuck looked passed and shook the bag at someone behind him, carrying a comically menacing grin, “Oo, Jaemin might kill me, though.” 

Jeno perked up at this, unintentionally, a reflex to a familiar name. He turned around and found Jaemin was narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Donghyuck, he was definitely not blocked by anything this time. Jeno waved when their eyes met and smiled as kindly as he could. Jaemin looked surprised, nevertheless, and gave an awkward wave back. 

Donghyuck snorted, “I guess the meeting went well,” Jeno spun back around just as Donghyuck picked up the papers the second Mark had finished signing––what looked to have amounted to nearly 30 sheets––and the latter flexed his hand to stretch it out.

“Wait, your artist is  _ him _ ?” Chenle’s smile was replaced with a sly grin, one that suggested he knew a lot and Jeno hated that he recalled calling him hot. 

He reached out to hit him but this time, Jeno didn’t miss Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Your artist?”

Jeno quirked his head and gave him a weird look before saying, “yeah… you’re the one that told me about it?” Donghyuck’s alarm seemed to double at this so Jeno added, “the subsidy program, I mean. I don’t remember the official name.”

With that Donghyuck schooled his features back to normal. “Ah, yes, of course, that was me.”

“What the fuck?” Mark muttered, back into the conversation, and Jeno found himself unable to disagree––it was a peculiar reaction to say the least.

“Thanks for signing,” Donghyuck said in a robotic voice before giving an unenthusiastic wave and strolling off to his own table. 

There was a moment of silence before Mark dropped another, “What the fuck” and Jisung nodded. 

Jeno, however, was paying attention to Donghyuck flaunting his sandwich back at his own table and a disgusted Jaemin, looking about ready to end his friend’s university career over pure distaste. That is, until Jisung literally hit the back of his head. “Ow!”

“You didn’t tell us that was the guy who hired you was him.” Chenle grinned.

“Hired? That’s just not what it is, first of all,” Jeno grumbled, suddenly sad about his lack of a sandwich. “And there’s nothing exciting about it, he’s just someone I’m collaborating with now.”

“Odd phrasing.”

“Shut up, secondly, I don’t see a point in making a big deal about it,” he turned to Mark, “how many times have you called someone hot and then just left it? Or found someone attractive without needing to like them?” 

Despite Jisung’s glare, Mark squirmed and said, “Yeah, a lot.”

“Exactly, and even though we don’t talk about it, I’m pretty fucking sure Chenle and Jisung are the same.” Jeno grabbed Chenle’s untouched juice carton and began drinking aggressively. Point made. 

“True, true,” Jisung said and Chenle did nod, though there was displeasure in his eyes over his stolen drink. 

“Didn’t realize you’d get so worked up about it, lol.” Chenle finally said and Jisung dropped his fork. 

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you just said ‘lol’ in real life.” And just like that, the table forgot about the previous topic and began their second war of the day. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

It was about 4:36 pm when Jeno found a problem with the whole setup between him and Jaemin. There had been a significant lack of phone number exchanges and when he looked at his screen now––every social media app and all––there was no way for him to contact him. 

There were a few things he could do: 1. Ask Mark to ask Donghyuck, 2. Look it up in the school’s online directory, 3. Go find Jaemin and ask him himself.

Clearly, the first two options would be the easiest and most efficient ways of getting his number or contact. And though he would never call himself the person who liked a challenge, there was something enticing about it. Furthermore, he liked Jaemin and having to search for him and ask him would just give him an excuse to talk more.

He snorted, chastising himself for needing an  _ excuse _ to talk to someone. That was never the type of person he wanted to be and yet, here he was. 

Now, it seemed the only problem that remained was finding Jaemin on a campus of thousands with a hundred different departments and faculties. What a mess and where to begin? 

Though he supposed he already had the answer for that as well. There was only one thing he knew Jaemin took for sure: fine arts. Which meant he could go back to the place it even began. Despite how little success Jeno had last time, he would hope this task may be easier. And it would, once again, give him the opportunity to address his more hidden motive. 

Finding who submitted that artwork of him. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Jeno couldn’t help but admire the paintings that lined the walls of the main entrance to the department of fine arts. They were, to put it lightly, exceptional pieces of work and he was glad there was less stress this time so he could focus on them more. One thing he noticed about the justifications and titles beneath each of the human works was, however, that they were all self-portraits or of celebrities. None of random classmates.

Too caught up in his admiration and trying to think of a way to locate Jaemin, he failed to notice someone round a corner and ran right into them. “Oh! Sorry, sorry,” the person, a man, sounded vaguely familiar and extremely flustered. Jeno, recovering from the initial impact, opened his eyes and found himself looked at the distressed eyes of Professor Lee. Recognition flooded the professor’s eyes then, as well. “Lee Jeno, right?”

Jeno tried to give a friendly smile. “Yeah, I’m back,” he shifted uncomfortably but tried to make it seem natural. 

“I can see that,” he chuckled but his expression rapidly grew solemn, “I’m sorry but I’m still unable to help you out with the artist’s name…” he trailed off.

“Oh, no it’s fine, it’s fine, that’s not why I’m here,” Jeno quickly assured. He noticed a door to his right with “Professor Lee” on it’s nameplate and understood why the man had jumped to that conclusion as to why he was here. “I’m actually looking for a student.”

“I see,” he looked relieved, “who is it? Maybe I can help.”

Jeno smiled genuinely at this. “Na Jaemin.” 

The relief on the professor’s face vanished in almost a second and it was replaced with blatant shock, quite akin to the expression Donghyuck held before when Jaemin’s name was brought up at lunch.

Jeno felt the need to clarify. “I’m his partner for the subsidy program.”

Professor Lee’s eyebrows raised. “The part-time inspiration project?”

“That’s it.” He made a mental note on the official name despite how atrocious it was.

“I see, well in that case,” the professor pointed behind him, “he would probably be in the studio, most of the students who care about their major head there after class for a while. I presume he will be, then.”

“Hard-working student?”   
“When it matters to him,” there was humour in his eyes, “but I do admire his love for it.”

Jeno smiled at that, though he suddenly felt even more awkward. “Thanks for your help, Professor Lee.”

“Not a problem, tell him his catch-up assignment is due two days from now.”

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

The door didn’t open very quietly, which is why it surprised Jeno that no one yelled at him considering how quiet it was inside the studio. It took him a moment to realize it was because there was literally no one inside. Disappointment began to fill his thoughts before he heard a soft tapping noise. Then something akin to blotting. Then a scratching of brushes against canvas. Then a sigh of discontempt. 

Then, “fuck me!” as a bunch of stick-based items clattered to the ground. Jaemin was very obviously here. 

Jeno made his way around one of the larger racks of oil paints and found the person he was looking for, only face exposed as his head tilted to the side of the canvas in front of him. He looked irritated and had a brush in between his teeth, coral-coloured paint covered the bristles. Jaemin had yet to notice Jeno but the latter couldn’t help but watch as Jaemin grabbed another brush, this one with green paint, and drew large, aggressive strokes across the A2 canvas. 

There was something about the way that Jaemin was standing, hand clutching the border of the canvas in desperation while the other continued working, that was somewhat amusing, if not slightly captivating. Maybe it was because he stood so angrily in the one light spot of the room, where a sickly yellow light drenched him; and the soft pastel blue of his shirt, long-sleeves rolled up to his elbow; and the mess of his pink hair that just touched his crossed brows. 

Jeno couldn’t help but continuously reiterate in his head: “You’re so hot.”

It took him a full second before he realized his mistake. He’d said it aloud. He quickly clasped his mouth shut with his hands but he knew that the damage would already be done it––

Jeno noticed pieces of white near his ears, just peeking over his unruly hair. Airpods. Jeno let out a long sigh of relief, there was no way he would have heard him, then. He reminded himself that there was nothing one could do about finding someone hot, because there was nothing more to it. 

Jeno stepped a little farther out from behind the paint rack and tried to catch Jaemin’s eye. Heartbeat returning to its normal, healthy state. Jaemin let out a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair, he turned to the side to pick up a different colour and happened to look up at Jeno. He froze, hand still caught in his messy fringe. 

Before Jaemin dropped his hand, fast and hard, and knocked down the cup of brushes––again. “Fuck off!” he barked at them and Jeno snickered as Jaemin removed his airpods. “Sorry, you surprised me.”

“All good, though that is the second time they’ve fallen since I walked in,” Jeno said, he walked over to pick the brushes up since Jaemin hadn’t made a move to beyond glaring at them.

“The setup is new, they changed the work stations and I got the wheels stuck so,” Jaemin huffed, “whatever, I’ll just fucking suffer I guess.” Jeno laughed, again.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood, maybe I should come back later?”

Jaemin waved him off. “No, it’s fine, I’m glad you’re here, actually, I was going to ask about our next meeting.”

“Sure, when are you free?” Jeno asked, placing the brushes back into the cup in what he hoped was a decent order.

“I don’t double major and I took a minor with the least time commitment so, I’m free most of the time,” Jaemin replied, “though I do have to finish this piece in the next two days so I’m a little… stressed.” He pouted. 

“It’s fine,” Jeno did some quick calculations, “this week’s a little busy for me as well so maybe Sunday?”

“Upcoming one? Yeah, sure,” he seemed to ponder this for a moment so Jeno walked a little to try to get an angle on the painting, “though it may be a little––”

Jaemin trailed off and though he was almost looking over his shoulder, Jeno could’ve sworn he saw the other boy swallow hard. 

Jeno was staring at his painting. It was nowhere near done––in fact, it was nothing but lines to sketch hills and a waterfall––but it was clearly to become a kind of fantastical landscape with pinks, purples, greens, and blues. And though he had never seen a single piece of Jaemin’s work before, he could’ve sworn something about the style of the brushstrokes was familiar. Painfully so. 

“Wow,” was all he said, “it’s really good.”

Jaemin didn’t respond, Jeno wasn’t sure if he had said something wrong or if he hadn’t really heard him. 

Until Jaemin let out a chuckle that sounded awfully forced, “it’s not really done yet…”

“No, I can definitely see that,” Jeno grinned, “but I can tell it’s going to look really good when it’s done.”

“Don’t have high expectations.” Jaemin muttered.

“I think you’re just good overall, even though I’ve never seen any of your work,” Jeno thought about that for a moment, “but I guess I will see your finished work when you’re done drawing me.”

He felt Jaemin’s entire body lurch forward and he spun around to face Jeno. “I guess you will,” he smiled, whether it was sad or kind, Jeno found he couldn’t be sure.

It did, however, trigger him to remember what he came for in the first place. “Oh yeah! Weird question but I actually came here to ask if I could have your number?” he pulled out his phone, “it’ll just make talking and setting up dates and stuff easier, you know?”

Jaemin blinked before his shoulders relaxed. “Oh, yeah sure,” he took out his own phone, “which anime character would you like as your contact picture?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im so sorry I havent posted in like 4 years I know I know I know how terrible I am, trust me
> 
> if you follow me on twitter you'll know it's because I've been applying for university and stressing about applications, final projects and deadlines and creating a portfolio so it's been awful. It literally sucks. 
> 
> Anyways, this chapter may be full of grammatical errors and such so please do let me know if there are any. I didn't have time to properly proof read but I really wanted to get this chapter out so I could spend more time writing more and I'm trying to post this other story as well and WOW IM A MESS
> 
> AS USUAL I love and appreciate your support for this fic sososososo much and I'll try to be more consistent in my posting now I swear <3 please leave comments I love them <3
> 
> [follow me on twitter!!](http://twitter.com/wired_roses)


	5. Climbing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaemin keeps climbing up towers that collapse beneath him.

Jaemin let out a shout and bunched his fists in his hair. Donghyuck and Renjun sat across from him, open mouthed. 

“It isn’t that bad.” Renjun tried, though he didn’t sound that convinced himself. 

Jaemin flung his head up and stared at them both with wild eyes. “The fuck do you mean it isn’t that bad, Donghyuck? You did this to me!” his voice rose, albeit unstably, at the end. 

Said friend merely crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You weren’t doing anything about your little—no, not little,  _ big _ crush,” Donghyuck huffed, “so I decided to move things along.”

They were sitting in Jaemin and Donghyuck’s dorm room, the first of the owners on his bed—stressed—while the other two were sprawled across their desk chair and extra beanbag. “You scammed me.”

“I did  _ not _ scam you.”

“You didn’t tell me the truth!” Jaemin pointed an accusatory finger at his friend. 

“I specifically recall saying, ‘I’m sure you’ve seen him before’ about—and I quote, ‘Mark’s friend’. So where was the lie, Jaemin? Where was it?” he said, taunting a seething Jaemin.

Unfortunately, the latter couldn’t argue with this; he did actually somewhat recall Donghyuck saying something along those lines and with Renjun here, who had the memory of a bottlenose dolphin, Jaemin knew it would be futile to even attempt. He hated his friends. “Then, oh  _ fuck _ I don’t know,” Jaemin pouted, “you manipulated me or something.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll give you that. I did kind of manipulate you into thinking it was someone you barely knew, let alone cared about so much,” Donghyuck admitted, “but you  _ can’t _ sit there and say it isn’t a blessing that I did this—even to just a small extent.”

Again, Jaemin couldn’t rebut this, though he wished he could. But both of those sitting in across from him right now would see through any lie that disregarded Jeno as something irrelevant. “I hate you. Both of you,” he muttered instead.

“I didn’t say anything,” Renjun raised a brow.

“You’re here, trust me that counts as enough for me to blame you.” Jaemin said but it was only met with Donghyuck’s laugh. He wasn’t feeling it, at all. He let out a loud groan. “What am I gonna do?”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes and Jaemin could tell Renjun was borderline ready to do so as well. “You’re such a drama queen, please– _ please _ be more annoying about it.” Donghyuck did an odd twirl in the air with his hand. “You’re treating this as a mess when it’s actually the best thing that’s ever happened to you—”

“Debatable.” 

“— _ when it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you _ ,” Donghyuck reiterated, “so you’re welcome.”

“‘You’re welcome’? I never thanked you, dude, I never even  _ tried  _ to thank you—” 

“Alright I think this conversation has peaked,” Renjun intervened, whipping out his phone in an attempt to ignore his friends, “time for both of you to shut up.”

Jaemin huffed and crossed his arms over his chest while Donghyuck just smiled—it looked friendly but he saw the devil behind it. Hypothetically, it could help him get closer to Jeno but that was really, really,  _ really _ theoretical especially if he ended up finding out about the drawing. 

The sudden recollection of that made him speak up. It was, maybe, a whisper as he said “what do I do if he figures out it was me?”

Renjun looked up from his phone with a raised brow. “That it was you who what? Drew him? Coloured him? Crushed on him? Fantasized about him? Hung a portrait of him up without his consent?” Jaemin groaned and Donghyuck laughed obnoxiously loudly. “Okay, but you’re honestly overthinking it, he won’t find out, we’re the only ones that know and I’m sure everyone’s lost interest by now.”

“I don’t care if the world forgets, I just want  _ him _ to forget; how could he?” Jaemin said.

“Yeah, he probably won’t. It was literally of him after all,” Donghyuck thought aloud, Renjun moved to shush him, and Jaemin wanted to die on the spot. He threw his head into his hands and groaned again. Renjun glared and Donghyuck until the latter sighed and added “but if you’re friends then he’ll forgive you even if he does find out. It’s like a safety net, friends always forgive one another.”

“Sorry, but that’s not true.” Renjun said.

“Uh—it is true? Mark always forgives me right away, it takes literal seconds.”

“Mark would put his arm into molten gold to make you happy, so your point is invalid.” Renjun pointed out and were Jaemin not wallowing in his own self-pity he’d full heartedly agree.

“No one would do that,” Donghyuck mumbled.

“Yeah, I’m sure if Mark wasn’t wholly in love with you he wouldn’t either—Jesus, Jaemin will you  _ please _ get off the floor,” Renjun’s voice followed where Jaemin had slipped off the bed and crumpled on the carpet. Face first into the fluff. 

“I can’t, I want to die.” His own voice so muffled it was barely audible.

“Don’t we all,” Donghyuck said at the same time Renjun said “Kinda but not the point.” Jaemin loved his supportive friends.

But he did lift his head, just enough that it was his chin holding him up on the ground. “Jeno and I aren’t even friends.”

“That’s true,” Renjun said, “if you speak in the context of time then anything is a fact.”

“What.”

“I  _ mean _ , you should be saying you’re not friends  _ yet _ .” Renjun elaborated. It made sense but it didn’t necessarily make him feel better.

“I wish we were.”

“No, you wish you were more.”

“Facts.”

“This is a dumb topic, let’s get lunch.” 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

It was almost surreal for Jaemin to think that he had Jeno’s phone number within a week of knowing him.  _ Really _ knowing him. As in, not those months he followed him, observing him behind a shield.

Now, he sat in his room a day later, staring at the device in his hand. He didn’t move other than to blink or make sure the phone didn’t turn off. He absentmindedly clicked it every once in a while. Should he text him? That was essentially the only thought that went through his mind. 

If Jaemin were thinking rationally in that moment, he would’ve remembered that texting someone to set up a meeting was a really normal thing to do.  _ Unfortunately _ , this was Na Jaemin and he never thought rationally. 

Which is why, with a sigh, he tossed his phone across his bed and readied himself to get up. Of course, it was with his luck that the stupid device chimed midair, signaling an incoming text. He dove after it without a second thought; knowing full well it was purely desperation that drove him. He landed next to it and snatched it before it bounced off his bed. When he saw the notification that flashed on his screen he couldn’t help a smile.

 

❋

 

 **[10:43]** _Unknown_

hey, is this na jaemin?

it’s lee jeno

frommm the part time 

… whatever project

 

❋

 

Okay, that was kind of cute as an entrance. A little awkward, yes, but most people were generally awkward initiating a text. Once again, Jaemin felt like he was overthinking it.

 

❋

 

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:44]**

hey :)

yeah it’s me

from the ~ part-time inspiration project ~

**[10:44]** _Unknown_

o god

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:44]**

ik its a tragic name

**[10:44]** _Unknown_

it rly is

cnt believe i had to hear that art professor say it outloud

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:45]**

lmao ? art professor?

**[10:46]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

ya i was looking for u

 

❋

 

_ Oh _ .

 

❋

 

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:46]**

haha

h

**[10:46]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

lol ?

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:46]**

OKAY yea so when r u free

**[10:46]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

o shit good question

lemme check

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:46]**

👍

**[10:48]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

im free today

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:48]**

wait today????

**[10:48]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

ya?

is that a problem ? i can do another time 

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:48]**

NONONONONONO

NONONOonOnono

HOLD UP

im good to do today

:)

**[10:48]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

?????????

okay 

odd but okay

wat time?

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:48]**

i have a class in 12 mins

so ill be done at 1245

**[10:49]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

then one !

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[10:48]**

suresure

cya thenn

**[10:49]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

cu :D

 

❋

 

He couldn’t help but kind of smile to himself. It was so ridiculously obvious at this point how infatuated he really was. And it was even more obvious that if even one stranger were to see him with Jeno, it would be clear to them as well. 

He hated himself for being so terrible at hiding it from the world. But the one thing he  _ had _ mastered was faking it in front of Lee Jeno himself. Maybe, right now, that was the most important part. 

Sighing, he picked himself off his bed and got ready for art, where he knew Renjun would already be sitting, likely in the process of being extremely irritated that Jaemin was going to be late. As usual. 

 

▪️▪️▪

 

Jaemin frowned as he tried rubbing the graphite off the front of his sleeve. It was extraordinarily irritating that he’d forgotten what today’s project was and had, therefore, shown up to class in a white long-sleeved shirt. 

He was a trainwreck. 

“Hey!” Jaemin’s head shot up so fast that he didn’t have the time to change his expression from a scowl. Thus, Jeno was met with a ticked off glare and he slowed from his jog. 

The moment he saw Jeno’s grin fall and his raised, waving hand lower, Jaemin quickly tore up the corners of his mouth until his lips split into a full smile. Though it was mostly for Jeno’s sake and to keep his act going, there was a tiny part of him that just wanted to smile because it was, well, Lee Jeno running jogging toward him. Wanting to talk to him. Or… maybe it was just because they were supposed to meet up now and it was a purely business relationship to even interact–

“Hey,” Jaemin said when Jeno reached him. The smile still on his face.

“I actually realized that we never specified location, which is bad,” Jeno said, he looked a little embarrassed and Jaemin could feel his heart beginning to whir in his chest. His ribcage was not cooperating with him today. 

“Yeah, not great organization on our behalf…” Jaemin trailed off, calming himself. “So I guess it’s really good that we ran into each other, then.” He tried to keep his tone light but he knew well enough that if Jeno cared enough, he could hear the slight waver in the last bit. 

Lucky for him, Jeno didn’t know him, so he just returned Jaemin’s wide grin with his own— _ stunning _ —one. “Yep, besides, I like seeing you.”

Jaemin choked on his own spit. “What?”

Throughout his near death experience he could hear the melodious tingle of Jeno’s laughter and maybe afterwards, he’d admit that it was worth it. “It’s nothing, let’s go.”

“Okay, but where?” Jaemin inquired as he stepped in place beside his crush.

“I haven’t eaten, actually, so you wanna go get something?” 

Again, his heart did an annoying somersault in his chest. “Sure.”

“Cool, what do you like?”

_ You _ . “Anything in my general price range.”

“Wow, same,” Jeno said and rubbed his hands together, “I’m craving something asian, so… there’s a cheap Japanese ramen place or a cheap Korean place nearby.”

Jaemin groaned. “The Korean one is a bit of a scam, I swear they poisoned Donghyuck one time.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I get to say ‘I remember that’, but I do,” Jeno winced, “Mark was freaking out when he got the call.”

“I tried making a bet with Renjun on whether Mark and Donghyuck would end up dating but it didn’t work because we both bet they would.”

“They basically are,” Jeno added and they both laughed. It was nice to Jaemin, that they seemed to interact so flawlessly. As though they could speak without any pressure. 

If only that were true. 

They did, however, walk comfortably after that with basic chatter about things that were mostly to fill up the space. But it didn’t feel forced, and maybe that’s why Jaemin was falling harder and harder. 

At some point they were just around the corner of the Japanese place, Jaemin toying with the buds of his earphones, when Jeno said, “I know it’s kinda strange to say aloud but it’s, like, insanely easy to talk to you. It’s really chill, too.” 

If Jaemin’s heart had been thrumming before it was nothing compared to the giant leaps it took this time. “W-what?” he began praying the stutter hadn’t been that obvious.

It was almost like Jeno realized what he said in that moment as well because when Jaemin looked, the other boy was turning bright, bright red. “I-I-I mean,” what was happening? “do you want to get the menu or do you already know what you’re getting?”

Jaemin was completely taken aback, to say the least. But he was afraid if he addressed it, Jeno may shrink back or cut himself off like the tag of a new pair of jeans. Instead, he shoved his phone in his pocket. “Trust me, I know. Donghyuck dragged me here five days in a row when he was going through his  _ ‘broke photographer’ _ phase.”

“That’s a phase?”

“All photographers have it according to him, therefore, in order to be a real one, he had to suffer through it as well,” Jaemin elaborated as he strolled passed the ‘please wait to be seated’ sign and moved to sit down in the run-down booth he always went to.

Jeno sat down across him. “So, what did he do? Delete his bank account? Or just avoid it altogether?” he inquired and Jaemin waved over the server, “oh, what the fuck? You know the owner?”

“Like I said, Donghyuck,” Jaemin muttered, “and he didn’t have much in his account to begin with so he bought me, Renjun, and Mark a bunch of shit—you can probably guess who he prioritized—basically, he temporarily bankrupted himself.” 

Jeno whistled when he was done. “That takes a lot of commitment.”

“And idiocy.”

“I guess a lot of that, too.” Jeno laughed openly. His entire face cracked like the sun reaching over the sea’s horizon. It was—like most things involving the sky—beautiful.

He loved it. And just like that, they fell into a comfortable talk as the food arrived. 

A few spotless dishes on the side of the table later finally gave Jaemin enough room to whip out his sketchbook—his  _ school _ assigned one—and spread his pens across the table. “Okay, so, in order for you to get paid and for me to have a project, we need to actually do more than just talk.”

“But I thought you said you needed to get to know me for a better piece?” Jeno grinned, there was a hint of the devil there and Jaemin was suddenly reminded of Donghyuck. Not a good sign.

“You don’t think I know you well enough?” Jaemin turned the corners of his lips down and made the corners of his eyes crease, the way he knew looked especially cute. Maybe if he wasn’t completely blind, he would’ve seen the slight red that creeped up Jeno’s cheeks.

Jeno chuckled, “we’ve literally met, what? Twice? At most?” not technically true but Jaemin didn’t really feel like telling him that. 

“Yeah, true,” he settled for.

“But we can plan it out, maybe? I’m not sure how it works, exactly…” Jeno trailed off as Jaemin cocked his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, if you need me to pose or…” Jaemin burst out laughing and Jeno really  _ did _ turn bright red this time. “Okay, okay… look, dude, I don’t know how it works, so...”

Jaemin slowly began calming himself but he was still chuckling slightly as he spoke, “oh no, no, no, that’s not what I—sorry.”

But Jeno waved him off. “Just tell me how this is supposed to work.”

Grinning one last time, Jaemin picked up his pencil. “Maybe I shouldn’t have laughed, since I think that’s what most people do. Have their model pose, I mean,” Jaemin bit his lip, “but I think it’d be pretty uninteresting if we do that since it’s less collaboration more  _ I _ do everything and  _ you _ get paid,” Jeno rolled his eyes, “and besides, we don’t  _ have _ to have me draw you, I can draw anything you’d like. What matters is you choose.”

“So what, I just select any random object and you draw it?” Jeno sounded dubious.

Jaemin just shrugged. “It can be anything, from an object to another person to scenery, it doesn’t have to be of you,” Jaemin looked at him directly, “it just has to be about you.” As so many things in his life seemed to be recently. But he knew precisely who’s fault that was. One couldn’t blame a butterfly for a hurricane.

The blood began pumping in his veins as Jeno grinned in satisfaction with the answer. “Okay, so I’ll choose something then,” he reached over, grabbed one of Jaemin’s pencils, and began tapping it against his open sketchbook, “I promise to have it in the next few weeks.”

“The next few weeks?” Jaemin raised a brow, “you want to drag this out longer?”

Jeno smiled but he didn’t look up from the sketchbook. “Two reasons: firstly, I get paid more the more weeks this goes on,” Jaemin snorted, of course that was it, “secondly,” Jeno’s eyes lit up even more, “I have an obvious excuse to keep seeing you.” 

If Jaemin’s heart had trouble before, it was nothing compared to the giant drop it took to the earth’s core this time. 

He was so utterly infatuated.

 

▪️▪️▪

 

“On a scale of one to seventeen, how whipped would you say you are?” Renjun questioned, though halfheartedly considering he was leaned against the edge of a cabinet. They were in the common room kitchen and Jaemin was currently stirring pasta aggressively with Donghyuck continuously picking out single noodles with a fork. 

“That’s the nastiest scale I’ve ever heard anyone use, ever.” Donghyuck said through his chewing. 

“Not for you,” Renjun said automatically, “answer the question coward.”

Jaemin slammed the wooden spoon he was using on the countertop beside him. “The _nerve_ to call the person making _you_ _dinner_ a coward. That’s it. No food for Renjun.” Jaemin declared and Donghyuck cheered.

“Stop avoiding my question or I’ll assume it’s a thirteen out of thirteen—”

“Once again,  _ odd _ fucking scale—”

“—and that’ll basically mean you’re completely in love, so—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jaemin wiped his butter-covered hands on his soft pink apron, “who said anything about love?”

“You, when you didn’t answer my question,” Renjun deadpanned and Jaemin  _ felt _ Donghyuck nodding beside him. What a time to hate his friends. 

Jaemin shot him a glare before returning his lifelessness back to Renjun. “Well then I didn’t technically  _ say _ it did I? Since I actually said nothing—”

“Pasta’s over-boiling.”

“FUCK!” Jaemin shouted, probably waking up the several students that were trying to sleep early for late classes. He quickly turned the heat lower and tripled his aggressive stirring. There was a beat of silence before he finally answered, “probably a 7.”

“Out of thirteen?”

“Oh, damn. Not thirteen,” Jaemin pretended to do some quick calculations in his head even though he dropped math the second he could, “so out of thirteen it’s probably like a ten.”

“Ten out of thirteen is greater than seven out of ten,” Renjun muttered the same time Donghyuck said “damn that’s really fucking whipped.”

Jaemin decided to ignore this because the fact was it was already clear that he was in deeper than he originally wanted. Originally thought. He’d never expected it to have happened like this. 

Back when he had never spoken to Jeno, he would sometimes think about what it would be like if they one day talked. If Jeno would like him, hate him, or maybe, in his deepest, most hidden dreams, fall in love with him. But Jaemin hated insta-love, and that was the main bit of it all. And yet he’d always thought, if it was Jeno liking him back, then maybe he wouldn’t care about instantaneous love for once. 

And he didn’t. Because it hadn’t happened. While it sometimes pained him to think about it like that now, he was actually extremely pleased with where they were now. He knew their friendship would only grow and—who knew? Maybe, one day, Jaemin would look at Lee Jeno not as someone with a crush, but simply as a best friend he could count on. 

It was now, after it had all come to this, that Jaemin realized how desperately he wanted that to happen.

 

▪️▪️▪

 

Jaemin was, as one may call a hobby, ‘procrastinating’. Which consisted of him lying in bed scrolling through random apps on his phone while Donghyuck was getting ready for bed in the bathrooms. Or maybe, he’d run out and ditched Jaemin for a party. Honestly, that was just as likely a possibility. 

He sighed and scrolled through the seventh meme he’d seen at least twenty times already on his dashboard. This was slowly becoming more than just tedious. That was, until—

 

❋

 

 **[21:56]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

hey r u awake ?

 

❋

 

_ Ten out of thirteen. _

 

❋

 

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[21:56]**

hey :)

yea im here

**[21:56]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

o cool i thot u wud sleep earlier

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[21:56]**

sadly im a uni student

i dont hv time to sleep

**[21:56]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

dam facts

do u hv a lot of work ?

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[21:57]**

nono

not tonight anywys

**[21:57]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

then y were u awake ?

hoping id text u ;)

 

❋

 

_ Ten out of thirteen _

 

❋

 

 **[21:57]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

sorry lmao i was j kidding

!!

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[21:58]**

oH

no hahaahaahahahaa sorry

i dropped my phone on my fa ce

**[21:58]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

ooo lmao

i hate when that happens

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[21:58]**

yea same

ur life flashes before ur eyes

**[21:58]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

ill pray for u

😩🙏

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[21:58]**

tHANK U

boyfriend goals

**[21:58]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

haha ??

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[21:58]**

LMAO OMG

I DIDN

TNENAT

STYPE

BOYFRUOIEJDNJK

UIFEAOKLJDAEKLuijkdlAEKD

uhDIAJKLEkd

uDKLJAE

**[21:58]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

HAHA NO ITS FINE 

LOL

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[21:58]**

UIHOJWKLA

IFJLAKJE

JDKAENJKD

typo

im sry

**[21:58]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

lol no its just cute

 

❋

 

_ Ten out of thirteen _

 

❋

 

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:00]**

sry my phone fell again

damn this got no grip

**[22:00]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

right ?? apple wyd

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:00]**

haha yea wtf

shud i switch to android

**[22:00]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

omg ill have to block u if u do

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:00]**

wait no dont pls

**[22:00]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

yikes

tht desperate for me ??

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:00]**

: )

**[22:00]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

im taking that as a yes

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:00]**

y is everyone accepting my silence as acceptance tonight

**[22:01]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

hahA who else ???

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:01]**

lmao nvm

**[22:01]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

wait omg now u hv to tell me

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:01]**

i literally dont

gn jenoo

**[22:01]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

wait omG NOOOOO

NO I LOVE U COME BACK

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:02]**

sRY DROPPED MY FUCKING PHONE

U DK ME

**[22:01]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

IK U ENUF >:(

LET ME LOVE WHO I WANNA LOVE

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[22:02]**

GN JENO

**[22:01]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

GN JAEMIN LOL

 

❋

 

_ Eleven out of thirteen. _

His palms were so sweaty. How could Jeno do this to him? How could he absolutely demolish who he was in a single text conversation? 

Jaemin couldn’t do it, he couldn’t physically bear reading that over and over again and yet—he did, he kept doing it. Over, and over, and over, and over again. Just as Lee Jeno probably never intended it to be. How difficult one sided infatuation had turned out to be. It was phenomenal just as much as it was deadly. 

He held his phone tightly to his chest, trying to squeeze the meaningless words out of it, because that’s exactly what they were—meaningless. He knew that, he was completely, utterly aware of it and, yet, it was just as painful. If not more so. 

“Don’t do this to me, Lee Jeno,” he whispered to nothing. 

Or, it was nothing until the door opened and disheveled looking Donghyuck stumbled in. He wasn’t drunk, Jaemin knew him well when he was drunk; this was something else. 

There was a fogginess in his eyes that suggested similar effects to alcohol and yet there was none. 

“Donghyuck?” Jaemin asked, weary of the way his roommate’s feet dragged across the ground, like they were being held down by cement. He was being pulled by nothing but exhaustion so it seemed. Or… was it something else? He didn’t get a reply. “Donghyuck, are you okay?”

He felt a surge of panic and desperation as his friend collapsed on his bed facedown. And the feelings only increased the moment he heard the whimpers. And even in the dimmed room he saw how his body shook with every sob, how it raked through his conscious and threatened to shatter him.

Jaemin couldn’t stand it, he leapt off the bed and dove to the side of his friend. He put a reassuring hand on Donghyuck’s back, just letting him know that he was there—even if he didn’t want to speak, he was there. That was all that mattered right now. 

Maybe later, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a week, or a year, or maybe he’d never tell him why he was crying right now. But it didn’t matter right now. And it may never matter. 

“It’s okay, Hyuckie, just breathe—breathe in deep and let it all out.” The most concerning part was that it had happened within literally half and hour of him going to the washroom, only to come out and be left in a disastrous state. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Every cry was like a needle into his heart, and a needle in his every mobile body part. It was…  _ excruciating _ .

“Jaemin—Jaemi—I don’t want to—I can’t—” another entourage of sobs overtook him. 

“It’s okay, shh, it’s okay,” he continued holding onto him. As if it was all he was capable of doing. 

He didn’t know how long they stayed there. In that same position. Maybe endlessly, maybe just a few minutes. 

Not that it mattered. Because everything broke when Donghyuck shattered the silence.

“I’m in love with Mark, Jaemin.”

Jaemin breathed out, calmly. “I know,” he was glad this was all it was, “everyone knows.”

“But now  _ I _ know,” Donghyuck whispered, voice cracking from the strain of crying, “and that’s the most painful part.”

Jaemin felt his heart squeeze and squeeze, as though it may burst from being so mistreated. “I’m so sorry, Donghyuck.”

“Promise me, you won’t tell anyone.”

“Everyone already knows—”

Donghyuck cut him off as he finally turned his head and looked Jaemin directly into his eyes. Right into the core of his soul, where his humanity lay festering in its pity. “Promise me.”

Jaemin let out one breath of air. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI SO THIS IS L A T E
> 
> but if you follow me on twitter or literally just follow this fic in general you'll probably know this is really typical of me which is why I'm going to hit you with an IM SO SORRYRYRYRYRY again but it won't really matter I guess since I'm probably going to end up doing it again (especially since it's about to be exam season :) )
> 
> yeah so, this is not proofread at all which is why I'd love if y'all pls point out mistakes that could help a sad writer out
> 
> but as usual comments are my absolute favourite thing I really love reading them and they keep me going <3 so thank you to everyone who took the time to read this fic in general and I love all the support ;-; 
> 
> I'll try to update as soon as I can <3 happy reading~~


	6. Grasping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeno has never felt so confused in his life.

The whistle sounded louder, he felt, than it usually did; that was saying something considering Jeno had been playing the sport for eight years. He stopped where he had just been running to glance over at where Mark was standing with a clipboard in hand. The heat was sweltering on this exceptionally sunny day and Jeno regretted not calling in sick the moment he’d checked the weather app to reveal a startlingly high number. “I don’t remember practicing that formation, Jisung,” Mark called, looking sassier than usual. Donghyuck must be rubbing off on him.

The called out member, seemingly ticked off at the pause in practice, gave the loudest sigh Jeno had ever heard and yelled back, “‘cause you never taught it!”

For a moment he forgot the heat and Jeno burst out laughing at the sheer bluntness of his words. Mark, on the other hand, didn’t seem as though he was feeling the humour of the situation as much. And, yet, he was Mark Lee. “Ohh-kay,” he shot Jisung a thumbs up. What a great captain. 

Jeno took charge post-laughter by marching over to where his taller friend took and punching his arm. “Literally not how it works, idiot, pay attention to our  _ captain _ .” Jisung let out a yelp and glared daggers at the culprit. 

“Thanks, Jeno,” he heard Mark mumble—sarcasm not finely masked at all. 

“What the fuck?” Jisung growled, “save your fucking skin contact for Jaemin.” He rubbed his arm as though something was there while Jeno followed the direction of his nod to the bleachers where, sure enough, Jaemin was standing with Donghyuck. They seemed to be in some kind of heated debate about something while their other friend—Renjun? He was almost positive it was Renjun—was watching the two with no little amount of boredom. 

“What the  _ fuck _ does that even mean?” Jeno immediately replied. 

“It means get your hands off me.”

“You were implying something else.”

“Was I? Can’t remember.”

“Short-term memory? Sucks to be you.”

“Is it really me, though, if you’re the one that can’t remember Jaemi—”

“Okay, both of you  _ shut up right now _ !” Mark bursted, throwing his arms out wide and Jeno could only watch the pen fly off and right at another teammates shoulder. “Oh—sorry, man,” he calmed and jogged over to pick it up where the other guy was chuckling. “Like I said, both of you shut up, this is football practice not a rap diss battle.”

“Just call it a rap battle,” Jisung murmured.   
“Ohh-kay, that just earned you the withdrawal of the right to make your own formation, thanks, Jisung,” Mark wiggled his hands and Jeno laughed again. Maybe this practice wasn’t so terrible after all.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Drops of water splashed on his phone and Jeno frowned as he finished rubbing his hair with a towel. He picked the device up and wiped the screen, notifications were popping up fast enough that he remembered how pleased he was that he’d turned the screen flash off. There was no way he’d be able to keep going with that. 

A name appeared just as fast as it was swarmed by the dozens of other applications. Jeno—who’s reaction timing had, in that moment, decided to delete itself—threw the towel aside and frantically began scrolling through the flock. It was extremely annoying having them move down literally every half second but, eventually, he caught up to what he was looking for. 

 

❋

 

 **[17:42]** _Na Jaemin :)_

hey r u doing anything for dinner?

iF U R ITS TOTALLY FINE

!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!

 

❋

 

Before he could even respond to the awkward—but endearing—message, Jisung walked around the wall beside him. 

“Hey, we’re going to the italian place on Crown’s, you coming?” Jeno looked up at his friend then down at his phone. 

It wouldn’t do any harm. “I already have plans, tell the team to get an extra pizza in honour of me, though,” he slid in, smiling at Jisung who rolled his eyes. 

“Do you think we have the money for that,” he mumbled and Jeno chuckled before slipping on his shirt and grabbing his bag off the locker room bench. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he said giving a little wave, “I’ll catch you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jisung immediately returned back to where the rest of the team was still getting ready. Jeno, on the other hand, unlocked his phone and replied to the person he had chosen.

 

❋

 

_ Lee Jeno  _ **[17:44]**

sure !

wait for me outside the locker ??

  
  


❋

 

He shook his head in a futile effort to dry his hair even just a little more from where it hung down his face to almost completely cover his eyes.

He was calm.

 

❋

 

 **[17:45]** _Na Jaemin :)_

yea 

im already tehre 

_ Lee Jeno  _ **[17:45]**

oh !

 

❋

 

Sure enough, the moment Jeno swung open the heavy door, he was standing right there. Leaned against one of the pale pillars that ‘decorated’ the campus. Jeno pocketed his device and lifted his hand to wave. Just as Jaemin looked up from his own phone, Jeno broke into a smile and began walking quicker over to where he was. 

“Were you waiting a while?” Jeno asked when he reached him. The other boy didn’t reply for a moment, he seemed to just be focused on something on Jeno’s face. Jeno’s smile wavered a second and he lifted his hand to touch the strands that were almost covering his eyes. “Yikes, I couldn’t completely dry it, sorry,” why was he apologizing for that?

Jaemin blinked once. “Wait, what?” his eyes seemed to return to focus, again, “uh, no, wait, that’s, uh, not—” Jaemin bit his bottom lip. 

Jeno cocked his head in confusion. “Sorry, you lost me.”

“Nevermind,” Jaemin said with a wave, all the previous stuttering vanishing completely from his speech. It was a miraculous, really, how easily Jaemin seemed to retrieve confidence. “Did you wanna go anywhere specific?”

“Not really,” he hummed, “just, not the italian place on Crown’s.” 

Jaemin made a face, “they poisoned Donghyuck once, anyways.”

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Jeno that he really, really, really enjoyed Jaemin’s company. And not just when they were hanging out in real life, but even just chatting over text or anything related.

He supposed that wasn’t really anything to be concerned with, studies showed how often it was true that there was a momentum of high off making a new friend. Specifically, one he got along so well with. He chewed the end of his pen. Usually his studying went extremely well, but this time… this time he was preoccupied. 

“Well, this is annoying,” Jeno said just as the door to his room opened.

He spun around on his chair just as Mark said, “what’s annoying?”

“Nothing,” Jeno exhaled, “I just can’t focus.” He plucked a gummy worm from the bag of sweets beside him and watched as Mark tossed his bag over his bedpost. 

Mark sighed as he swiftly sat down on his bed. “I think everyone feels the same way this far into the year, dude,” he stuck out a hand and crunched the fingers, Jeno fulfilled his wish and dropped two pieces of candy into his palm. He replied to Mark’s comment with a noncommittal  _ mmm _ . “But it’s you and you’re supposed to be great at studying, so what’s up?”

Jeno pursed his lip as he stretched the worm between his teeth. “Dude, I don’t even know, I just keep thinking.”

“Okay, isn’t that a good thing?”   
“Shut up.”   
“Okay.”

“No, what I mean is,” Jeno gnawed harder, he tossed his head back, “this is so annoying, I can’t even think straight.”

Mark’s face scrunched, he seemed to lean back even more on his palms. “What? Can you make up your mind. Are you thinking too much or aren’t you thinking at all?” 

“Weird phrasing at the end there. Basically, I think I am overthinking,” Jeno settled on. 

“Yeah, because that’s super specific.”

“Where did this sarcasm come from?—nevermind, Donghyuck, definitely Donghyuck,” Jeno said as he turned back to face his table. Mark scoffed as he attempted his assignment again. It was proving extremely difficult and Jeno kind of wanted to quit. 

“You know I’m a sucky guesser so don’t make me guess, dude,” there was a hint of pleading in his tone. 

“It doesn’t really matter,” Jeno tilted his head. What even  _ was _ physics? He did some quick calculations to figure out the severity of the consequences were he to quit the class literally right now.

“You saying that only makes it seem like it matters more—I won’t pressure you to say anything, though,” Mark added, quickly. Jeno had to admit he liked that a lot about Mark, there was never any pressure to have to speak. In fact, there was very little pressure at all outside the field. 

Jeno fell back on his chair, he sounded defeated as he said “physics is a cold-blooded killer, I swear.”

“I can’t really agree or disagree ‘cause I don’t take the class but, I know you, and I know that’s not it. Just saying,” Mark said with a shrug. 

Jeno didn’t bother to deny it, flexing around the truth was mostly irritating, anyways. “Yeah, you’re right.” Mark didn’t speak, in fact, he barely moved; Jeno only felt his eyes on him. “It’s really more about Jaemin, I guess.” It felt odd to him to say it outloud, like he was admitting something more than he actually was. It shouldn’t have been anything, and yet, here he was, exaggerating the stage. 

“Ah… Jaemin,” Mark nodded slowly, “what about him, specifically?”

“I’m not actually sure, really,” Jeno began, tapping his chin, “I’m trying to figure that out myself.”

Silence for a moment, again. “Do you want to try describing it to me?” Mark suddenly asked. 

“What?” 

Mark shifted his weight to lean more heavily on his right arm. “I think I heard or read somewhere that if you describe something to someone it can sometimes clear it up in your own head, or something.”

Jeno blinked. “Doesn’t that usually have the opposite effect? Like, suddenly I wouldn’t be able to form the words?”

“I don’t know,” Mark shrugged, “do you wanna find out?”

Jeno thought about this, he really did. “I think that I think about thinking about Jaemin too much.”

“What the heck—”

“You said try—”

“I did  _ not _ say try and then say  _ that _ —”

“Wait, dude, shut up, let me try again,” Jeno closed his eyes, “I think that my mind is really occupied with thoughts of Jaemin, like, way too often.”

“Oh,” Mark said, dumbly, “that all?”

Jeno shook his head, “I can’t really figure out why that is.”

His friend seemed to ponder over this for a moment, like he wanted to speak as carefully as he could. “Maybe you’re just excited about having a new friend.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought it was, as well,” Jeno nodded in confirmation. 

“Or,” Mark continued, “maybe you’re like… interested in him?”

Jeno’s eyes shot open from where they were lazily drifting off. “What do you mean?”

“I mean like… maybe… uh… romantically?” 

_ Romantically _ . He hadn’t even thought about that. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to make things awkward.” 

Mark sounded genuinely apologetic but Jeno just brushed him off, “no, no, no, no, you didn’t make it awkward I just… didn’t consider that.”

“Oh, I see,” Mark tried to say with enough emotion to not seem thrown off.

“Can you not say ‘I see’ in the tone of some middle-aged-extremely-disappointed teacher,” Jeno mumbled. 

“My point is,” said Mark, likely choosing to ignore Jeno even he had heard him, “that you maybe… should consider it?”

“Consider what?” Jeno replied, sighing toward the wall, “that I like Jaemin? Or that I should date him?”

“Aren’t those kinda the same thing?” Mark inquired.

“No,” he said almost instantly, “they can be completely different,” when Mark looked a bit confused he decided to elaborate, “I mean, you can like someone but feel like you’re not ready to date or feel like you wouldn’t be a good fit together. And if you like someone but you know they don’t or won’t ever like you back then you could see the relationship as a dead end.”

Mark raised his brows, he looked impressed and confused at the same time. Jeno didn’t know which one was worse to see. “You don’t think Jaemin likes you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Jeno shook his head. There was no way he’d ever say that because there were definite moments where he considered if Jaemin maybe did, or if he was only leading up to a crush. Either way: “he might, maybe he already does?”

“What?” 

“I’m just saying that there’s no impossibility when it comes to liking someone or being liked,” he watched as Mark’s expression transitioned from quizzical to extremely soft for a moment before returning to its previous curiosity. It was times like this, where he saw Mark fail so brilliantly to hide his emotion, that Jeno wondered where his mind went. Whether it was still here, thinking about the dilemma Jeno had laid out… or whether it flew right to a certain sharp-tongued photography student who happened to room with said dilemma. And the moment the expression his friend wore came back to its neutral state, Jeno wondered if it was maybe a bit of both. The comparison between situations that seemed to catch him out the most. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Mark said after a moment of quiet.

Jeno grinned. “I think I’m right, too,” and Mark threw a pillow at him which he caught with a chuckle.

“That doesn’t do anything about your problem, though,” Mark leaned back on his sheets again. 

Jeno pursed his lips, “I don’t really see it as a problem, per say, more of an… interesting situation.”

“Now those are  _ actual _ synonyms,” Mark dragged out the words.

“Those aren’t even a little bit synonymous,” Jeno scoffed.

“In this  _ context _ they are,” suddenly his eyes grew wide and he snapped his fingers, “maybe it’s the context of your situation with Jaemin that makes everything so ambiguous.”

He tried to process that for a moment before settling on a simple: “you lost me.”

“I think that the way to test your thoughts about if you like Jaemin or not are to evaluate the feelings in certain situations— _ context _ , dude,  _ context _ ,” Mark repeated with a wave of his hands. 

Jeno wasn’t exactly sure they were currently operating on the same wavelength. “Okay… how do I do that?” 

“Think about the situations you’ve been with him up until this moment, have you felt like you liked him romantically in all of them?”

“No.” Truth, he just saw a good friend most of the time. It seemed that he had other thoughts more when he was alone rather than when he was with the other.

“Okay, great, so,” Mark grinned, “what situation would you say he’d be himself the most in.”

For a moment, Jeno really did think about it. But that was when it hit him harder than he really, really, really didn’t know if he could answer that question accurately unless… “I guess when he’s doing art?”

Mark nodded. “Makes sense, that’s even how you guys met, right? So maybe,” he tapped his chin as he looked at the ceiling, “maybe you need to interact with him in that kind of situation.”

And in that moment, it was like a little lightbulb went off in his head. “Wait! That’s actually smart, dude, oh my god,” he smiled. 

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic,” Mark muttered but Jeno was already halfway across the room. 

“I’m gonna go grab something, I’ll be back late,” he grabbed his keys and just as the door shut he shouted, “seeya tomorrow!”

 

❋

 

_ Lee Jeno  _ **[22:46]**

hey !!!

**[22:48]** _Na Jaemin :)_

o

hi

_ Lee Jeno  _ **[22:48]**

bless u replied

r u busy this evening:)

**[22:48]** _Na Jaemin :)_

i dont think so???????

nvm hyuck j said i didnt

more accurately he said no u loser leave

wat did u have in mind

if yOU MEANT WE SHUD MEET

IDK

_ Lee Jeno  _ **[22:49]**

hahahaha chill yes

meet in 1 hr at palmers ?

**[22:48]** _Na Jaemin :)_

the park or the club

_ Lee Jeno  _ **[22:49]**

omg definitely not the club

**[22:48]** _Na Jaemin :)_

okokokok cya then

_ Lee Jeno  _ **[22:49]**

cu :D

 

❋

 

The time struck ten to twelve just as Jeno made his way around the last turn to their designated meetup spot. He couldn’t really help but admit how excited he was at this point; heart hammering in his chest, he squinted as best he could to see through the milky yellow light of the path lights. 

The forest was a little ways away from the school but it wasn’t more than a few bus stops or the train so it was pretty easily accessible for them. Moreover, it was the perfect place for Jeno to execute his very well thought out plan. 

The soft light was almost entirely drowned by the number of tourists hoping on the hype of this spot so it took him a few moments to find where Jaemin was standing. He was wrapped in an oversized knit sweater and tight dark jeans, the colours were impossible to see with the colour of the light but it was very, very obviously him. Even if he couldn’t see his face.

He started smiling before he even reached him, weaving his way through the growing crowd. Jeno reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, to which a surprised Jaemin turned around with widened eyes. 

His expression didn’t change when he met Jeno’s eyes. “Hey,” Jeno said, still with a large smile on his face. Now that he was aware of it, he saw the way Jaemin’s whole expression softened into something beyond reassurance it was someone he knew. It was more like, he was glad.

“Hey,” Jaemin pocketed the phone he’d been hunched over. The boy glanced at the people around them. “You chose a time during peak season, I don’t know if that was the most brilliant idea.” 

It only made Jeno smile wider. “Well then it’s a good thing I’m not an idiot, right?”

Jaemin returned it with the same energy. “Right.”

That’s when Jeno leaned in, close enough that he was a hair's breadth away from Jaemin’s ear and could feel the other boy shiver. “Then, follow me.” 

He strode off, making his way past the gather of foreigners, off the past, and through the thick brush of the forest. He didn’t look back to see if Jaemin was following him, he knew he was. Jeno readjusted the hold on his bag as he made his way through the increasing darkness. The sound of people slowly died out and he strode farther, and farther, off path.

Eventually, he came to a stop, at a point where only a slight thumping of voices could be heard beyond the rustle of the leaves. The cool air swept through the trees, leaving them restless. Just as he had felt prior to this moment. 

But the thickness of the forest ended right there, where he stood. Face to face with a chain-link fence nearly twice the size he was. He stood there maybe twenty seconds, just staring at what was before him. 

Jaemin finally broke the silence. “Jeno? What are you doing?” He didn’t respond. “Did we go the wrong way?”

Jeno smiled to himself before cocking his head… and launching himself at the fence. His hands fit securely into the chain holes and it made a rattling as his weight was thrown against it. “Nope,” he responded from his position on the fence. He didn’t look back at the other boy; rather, he began climbing. 

“Uh, Jeno, what the fuck?” Jaemin called from where he was still stood at the bottom, “I’m pretty sure this is, like, super illegal?”

“It’s fine,” Jeno said, “don’t stress about it.”

Jaemin muttered something he couldn’t hear just as he reached the top and swung his right leg over the top to hang down the other side. Now, only now, did he decide to take a peek at the other boy. He, too, was now reaching for the fence and making his way up. He didn’t wait there.

The ground made a thudding noise as they landed one after the other.

“Now what?” Jaemin said, sounding slightly out of breath. 

Jeno lifted his hand and pointed in the direction of more lights. “We’re going over there,” was all he said.

“May I know why?” he asked. 

“Nope,” Jeno couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you so much,” Jaemin radiated sarcasm and Jeno smiled wider. He walked toward one of the light posts next to an isolated tree. As they reached it, he heard Jaemin do a sharp intake of air. “Oh my god.”

It was the same reaction he’d had when he first saw it. Beyond the thick forest and behind the fence there was a cliff’s edge and it seemed to fall into an abyss. “That’s why it’s fenced off, they don’t want drunk tourists tumbling down every night.”

It stretched for what seemed like miles and miles. Jaemin’s face was half lit by the single lamp post. He looked in awe. “How did you know about this place?”

Jeno smiled but winced slightly. “Oh, an… ex,” he choked out. 

“Oh, yikes,” Jaemin flinched, “but still, I wonder how she came across this place, then?”

“Running from an ex, actually,” Jeno said; however, he started turning red not moments later, he was glad the dark disguised it as he said, “ _ he _ showed it to me first.”

Perhaps it was simply because he happened to be examining Jaemin to closely, but he felt he saw a spark in his eyes at the last part. It was beginning to feel more and more like what he and Mark were talking about was actually true. 

“But then,” Jaemin suddenly said, amidst Jeno’s studying, “why did you bring me here?”

Jeno grinned at that, he quickly checked his phone before dropping it back in his sling bag. “Not to be a cliché but you’ll see in a second.” 

Jaemin snorted, very unfashionably, but he said, “okay.”

And it really was just a few more seconds until it began. The lights began turning off, one by one, light by light, second by second. The mumbles from the crowd in the distance fell with a hush. Jaemin’s widened eyes followed the trail of lights as they were consumed by the dark; its path slowly making its way toward their final lamp. 

They both looked up at it just as the wave reached them. They watched together as that final light flickered off. And in the isolated forest, the dark was really all there was. 

Or rather, it should’ve been; that was until, “look up,” Jeno whispered. He knew Jaemin obliged even if it was far too oblique for him to see him perfectly. 

“Oh my god,” he sounded amazed not seconds later. 

The sky was alight. Brighter than the artificial ones they stood with and more beautiful than any colour. It shimmered, shined, and sparkled like crystal paint as it dripped down the canvas of the earth and dipped to where they stood, beneath it all.

Jeno had come here with a plan. But nothing in his plan had involved Jaemin lift his hand up as if to reach for the galaxies above. The stars trickled across the sky and Jeno could only watch as Jaemin’s hand began to move… and he was tracing every gleaming edge of each individual star. 

And despite his preparation, his devoted, unstoppable preparation—Jeno was mesmerized. He realized that before this moment, he had known nothing of the love Jaemin had for art. No words he had ever said would capture the essence of it quite as the action did. Because, even beneath a sky full of endless stars, he could see that Jaemin only saw it for the image it was, rather than the moment he was in. How everything he did whilst simply standing there was to frame the experience in a single portrait where he would control each light on its own.

“I can’t believe a place like this exists,” Jaemin whispered. His hand still outstretched. 

“I couldn’t really, either,” Jeno replied, keeping his voice as soft as the other’s, “it’s amazing.”

“It’s  _ breathtaking _ .” There was so much awe in every word. 

Jeno smiled. “Do you want to draw it?”

Jaemin stilled. “What?” 

“I asked,” Jeno stepped closely and removed the contents of his bag, “if you wanted to draw it.”

Slowly, the other boy’s hand fell from the sky as Jeno nudged the sketchbook in his direction. “What?” he asked again. 

“I bought it for you,” Jeno replied, “I also got you pens and… Donghyuck told Mark you preferred pencils but it’s a project so… I bought you watercolours.” He held his breath. 

He felt like he was holding it for hours, painstakingly long; until Jaemin reached forward, slowly, and carefully took the items in his hands. He inspected them for a second, the light of the sky enough to see the details he needed. “You didn’t need to do this,” Jaemin said, “you really, really didn’t have to do this.” He looked up right into Jeno’s own eyes.

Jeno kept his gaze, and a smile. “It’s fine, I bought it with the pension from our great arrangement, anyways.”

“No but… why?” Jaemin asked, ignoring Jeno’s attempt to lighten the mood. 

“I just,” Jeno curled and uncurled his hands, “wanted you to have a sketchbook that you could use for this.”

“For what? For the project?” Jaemin pursed his lips, unconvinced.

It wasn’t hard to give an answer, it was just hard to say it. “For me,” he breathed, “I just wanted you to use it for me.”

Jaemin completely stilled. Maybe if the stars shined a little less brightly, he might have seen the way the other boy paled. The way he always whitened at everything Jeno said that involved him. He missed it though, like he always did. 

“Just for you?” Jaemin managed.

Jeno’s cheeks were threatening to burn him from the inside out. “Yeah, just for me.”

Jaemin broke their gaze to turn back to the sky. “Can we start now?”

He smiled. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to decide what we did.”

Maybe he would’ve survived the night, were it not for the fact that Jaemin turned back to him, with desperation in his eyes. 

He really didn’t need to say anymore. “Yeah,” he replied. 

And just like that, beneath the lone lamp and the solitary sapling with the glittering sky above them. Jaemin drew him. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

The time on his phone struck precisely two in the morning when Jeno asked Jaemin if he’d thought the sky was worth it. 

“Worth what?” Jaemin laughed and it sounded like the softest tingling of bells. Maybe, just maybe, he was a bit whipped.

“I don’t know,” Jeno admitted, settling into his position more, “worth kind of everything, I guess.”

They were lying on the grass, next to each other, but both staring at the sky. They weren’t touching. They were rarely ever touching. But it was enough for him to understand.

“That’s too vague,” but Jeno knew Jaemin was still smiling. 

This time, Jeno chuckled, even if it was subtle. “Mark and Donghyuck vibes,” Jeno said and Jaemin snorted. 

“If we’re comparable to that, then we’ve hit an all time low.” They both laughed but there was a hidden meaning beneath the words.  _ Comparable _ . How could one be comparable to them?

Jeno decided to venture into uncharted space because, if not now, then he’d maybe never get the confidence to confirm his suspicions. And he was dying. “The only way we’d be comparable to them is if we were a mess of presumed unrequited love?” 

Jaemin didn’t even hesitate. “Love? I’d settle for a crush,” he sighed and Jeno had a mental breakdown on the spot. 

“Still, it’s the presumption of it being unrequited that’s important,” his heart beat a little faster as he threw it out further and further into the open. Waiting for him to take the bait— _ if _ he took the bait. 

“Maybe unrequited is all they can go off of, because they never thought it’d ever be anything more,” Jaemin said after a moment. Jeno thought he heard something akin to a little crack in his voice. 

“Why would they think that?” Jeno replied with, softly, “they’ve known each other forever.”

He felt Jaemin shift beside him. “Or maybe it only feels like that.”

“Even so… unrequited love or a crush isn’t something that exists here, don’t they know that?”

A ragged breath. “It’s so hard to know that if they don’t even know themselves.”

Jeno sighed, “why wouldn’t they know themselves?”

“It’s hard and it usually comes out in the worst situations,” Jaemin whispered, harshly but not toward him, “I should’ve been there when Donghyuck found it for himself, he suffered alone for way too long and—”

Jaemin shot up rigged next to him. His eyes were the widest they could ever be and his hand was clamped firmly over his mouth. Jeno had to take a moment to run through the line again in his head. But when he finally was able to process it, he shot up right with Jaemin, who was still frozen. “Wait, you mean Donghyuck admitted he—”

“Don’t say it outloud!” Jaemin cried as he ripped his hands off his mouth and covered Jeno’s, instead. The latter’s eyes widened considerably at the sudden contact. “Don’t say it outloud… I can’t—I wasn’t supposed to… say it,” his voice was suddenly low and quiet. 

Jeno couldn’t speak, but he nodded. Slowly, Jaemin took his hands back. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his gaze falling to the ground.

“It’s fine, I get it,” Jeno gave him a pained smile, even if he wasn’t looking at him. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he whimpered.

Jeno wanted to reach out, but he opted to leave his hands by his side. Jaemin seemed so broken by it. Broken by the breaking of a promise. “I promise.” He was shattered.

There was a moment where the air hung to heavy in the atmosphere, it could crush them if it pleased. But it didn’t. And it moved on.

“Anyways, it’s getting way too late,” Jeno cleared his throat, “we should get going.”

Jaemin finally looked up from the weight on the ground. “Yeah, okay.”

Without a word, Jeno packed his things away. All the while he watched as Jaemin stood up, clutching the new sketchbook to his arms as though his life depended on its safety; and walked off with the drawing of him he’d never even had the chance to see. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

There was very little doubt in his mind of what conclusion he had come to in terms of Na Jaemin. In fact, there might have been no doubt anymore. Not after all that. 

Which is why, when he walked into his room in the early hours of ‘tomorrow’, and saw that Mark was still up, he said, “I definitely made a decision and I definitely like Jaemin.”

Mark, likely surprised at the sudden intrusion, blinked a few times from where he was sitting cross legged on his bed. “Oh—what the—you said you were coming back tomorrow,” Mark accused. 

“It is tomorrow.” Jeno dropped his much lighter bag beside his bed and got out the clothes he planned on wearing to sleep. 

Mark glanced over at the little alarm clock beside his bed—the alarm itself had broken ages ago, so it was simply a clock now. He pushed his large framed glasses up his nose. “Oh dang, I guess it is,” he perked up, then, “wait! You finally decided?”

“Yep, dude, oh my god, I finally decided,” Jeno grinned. 

“That’s great!” Mark exclaimed returning the smile, “so what are you gonna do about it?”

Jeno dropped his toothbrush. He looked at Mark and blinked. “What do you mean?”

Mark’s brows furrowed. “I mean are you gonna ask him out or…”

“Uh,” Jeno pondered, “I’m not sure.”

Mark moved his books off his lap to rest his head in his hands as he braced his elbows on his thighs. “Oh, why are you not sure?”

“I don’t really know, to be honest,” Jeno admitted, feeling a bit sheepish, “do you think I should?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “ _ I _ think I’m the  _ last _ person you should be asking about that.”

“That’s so true it’s almost painful,” Jeno laughed as he grabbed his body wash and towel, “I think I might do it, maybe.”

“Maybe?” Mark asked and one could almost hear the exasperation in his voice. How close he really was to quitting. 

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Jeno muttered even though Mark had done virtually no peer pressuring. It just showed how whipped he really was. 

His friend burst into laughter, clearly picking up on the lack of peer pressure associated with making that choice. “Good decision-making,” he smiled, but it almost seemed like it was to himself, “I wish I had that strength.”

Jeno almost choked on his own spit. “Am I hearing right?” he said, eyes growing larger, “did you just very, very, very subtly admit that you want to ask Donghyuck out? A-K-A admitting you like him?”

Mark winced. “When you put it like that it just seems really forceful—” 

He couldn’t even finish his sentence before Jeno had dropped everything in his arms and deleted the distance between them. He grabbed Mark by the shoulders and looked at him very carefully. “I am… I am…  _ shocked _ .”

“Obviously, you’re not shocked at the fact that I have a crush—pretty sure everyone knew that,” Mark added at the end with a grimace, “so what are you shocked about?”

“That you  _ admitted _ it,” Jeno threw his hands up into the air, “this is revolutionary!”

“Shh, there are people sleeping in this hall,” Mark hissed. 

Jeno completely ignored him. “Oh my god, oh my god you  _ have _ to do something about it, holy shit, what a day,” Jeno ran on.

But that’s when Mark went rigid. “No way, nope, no way is Donghyuck going to be told about this,” Mark pleaded.

“What? Why not, you like each other so just do something,” Jeno cocked his head, genuinely confused. 

“That’s the thing, I don’t know if he likes me back, you know?” Mark, the everlasting image of calm, moved his hands to tug at his hair. The first sign of stress. The first sign it could be habitual enough to become a problem. Jeno took note of it. 

“Of course he likes you. It’s probably love, really,” Jeno admitted. 

Mark couldn’t even seem to shake his head. “I… don’t know. And that’s what makes it so much worse; is that I can’t say for certain whether anything is requited,” and when Jeno met his eyes, they were filled with the kind of desperation he had seen not one hour ago. “How can I make a move if I’m not certain?”

Jeno bit his lower lip. “I don’t really—”

“It’s eating me alive, Jeno,” Mark whispered.

His best friend, the one he shared everything with who always kept his cool even if a situation was threatening to tear him apart, was breaking down. And he kept running it through his head,  _ Jaemin told me this, Jaemin told me this _ . But if he said anything, there was a chance Jaemin would find out. He didn’t know what to say.

And now, it was eating at him more than just alive. It was eating at his desire to thrive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guess who's another 2 months late xd 
> 
> big shock i know
> 
> buT it's here now and it's like ?? slightly longer than what it normally is (by like 1000 words I think) HOWEVER none of its been proofread or anything so please point out any mistakes <3
> 
> ANYWAYS ENJOY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH KUDOS AND COMMENTS KEEP ME ALIVE (comments are the best I always hold those the most dearly) <3 
> 
> I'll try to write fast but it's exam season and I'm in my senior year :((
> 
> [follow me on twitter!!](http://twitter.com/wired_roses)


	7. Plunging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaemin has his heart set on silver but Jeno wants to give him gold.

The lines on his page weren’t snapping to each other and Jaemin was beginning to regret the $9.99 he spent on the app.  _ Try some graphic pieces,  _ Professor Lee had said,  _ it might be what breaks through your slump _ . As if. It sucked a lot, in that moment, that he had so much respect for his teacher. 

He let out a loud sigh as he aggressively clicked the undo button for the hundred and nineteenth time time in the last five minutes. It would be an understatement to say he hated this. He flexed his hand to stretch out any upcoming cramps and glanced at the edge of his bed where his phone lay. Though he turned it on silent, he saw it light up every few seconds or minutes with a new notification. With this piece expected to be done in the next three weeks, and him having no idea how to use the app, it would be best if he turned the device off completely.

Jaemin locked his tablet and leaned over to grab his phone. The notifications, it turned out, were all coming from his art course’s groupchat where they all complained about the work that was due this week despite having their exhibition up so recently. But his stomach churned at entirely different messages, ones that contained the words “Jeno”, “mystery”, and “at fault”. 

He tossed his phone away and went back for his digital piece, choosing to shove the image out of his mind and replace it with the events of the previous night. 

A smile unwillingly crept on his face, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. The piece seemed to flow a little better after that. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

Jaemin got a text a few hours after that from the person he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. Not that he particularly minded, he supposed. After all, blaming him for everything that happened—the good  _ and  _ the bad—was growing normal and likely justified. 

Jeno requested him to meet at around 7pm but was vague on why. But, of course, Jaemin was blindly ready to follow whatever Jeno said. At this point, Jaemin thought, there was very little that could make him dislike the other. He wasn’t quite sure if that was supposed to be a frightening thought or not. 

Jaemin fished his jacket from the bedpost and walked out, leaving the room unlocked for Donghyuck to deal with when he got back. He knew his friend liked to forget his keys. 

Running a little on the late side, Jaemin picked up his pace in a futile attempt to make it on time. Eventually, that “running a little on the late side” turned into actual running as he blitzed passed the buildings and dorms. 

Had he been paying more attention, he would’ve noticed it was time for him to stop. Instead, like every drama to grace television, a hand reached out to grab his forearm, halting his run. He whipped around to see who’d stopped him and found he was face to face with the person he had gone to meet. His eyes widened. It really was such a trope. 

“Hey,” Jeno said, his whole face shining with his signature smile. Jaemin’s eyes failed to return to their normal size as he caught his breath.

“Hi,” he finally replied. 

Jeno’s smile only grew and Jaemin’s heart followed suit. “I didn’t realize you’d be in such a hurry,” he laughed softly. 

So caught up in how the streetlight hit his crush’s cheekbones so flawlessly, he almost didn’t hear. “I left way too late,” he smiled, “I just thought I’d at least  _ try _ to make it on time.”

Jeno didn’t reply, just kept the soft grin on his face as they both looked down to where Jeno had yet to remove his hand from Jaemin’s arm. Jaemin wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be the one to move out of this position first, or if that was Jeno’s job. A moment later determined that he didn’t need to make that decision at all.

Because Lee Jeno slid his hand down Na Jaemin’s arm and clasped it gently around his hand. 

Breathing was no longer an option the latter had, not when his heartstrings grew and twisted their way through every vein in his body, taking control over every sensation. He let out an unwanted shaky breath, glad it was quiet enough that the other didn’t seem to hear. 

“Come on, you wouldn’t want to waste this once-in-a-lifetime occurrence of being on time, right?” Jeno said so casually while he carefully tugged Jaemin into the restaurant behind them. 

“How would you know if I’m always late?” Jaemin’s voice shook ever so slightly. He was far too preoccupied with the little spaces between their hands that he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to close. And he was far too immersed in the points where their skin touched creating dots of rippling warmth. 

Jeno shrugged. “You give me that kind of vibe.”

“Oh yeah?” Jaemin said, feigning a surge of confidence, “are there any other kinds of ‘vibes’ I give off that I should know about?”

“Clingy,” Jeno said without hesitation and Jaemin let out a snort as they walked inside. Jeno didn’t let go of his hand, which seemed a bit ironic, when he turned around and said: “and date-able,” with that same disarming smile. 

Jaemin let out a small ‘oh’ and almost passed out on the spot while the other just laughed. He laughed but he didn’t add a “just kidding”. So Jaemin wasn’t sure how to respond. 

Once again, it wasn’t up to him to make any kind of decision because Jeno started talking to the waiter. Hands still linked, but that… that seemed to be more Jaemin’s doing at this point. Maybe he needed him for stability at the moment. 

It was only once they reached their table that they were forced to let go. Jaemin almost wanted to stand just to avoid the loss of contact but he was also  _ starving _ . Having accidentally skipped most of his meals today was taking a toll. 

“To what extent can I over-order without you judging me?” Jaemin asked, channelling his inner Donghyuck to provide a sarcastic, disarming smile and faking calmness by inspecting a piece of glass decor. 

“Can’t judge you if I do the same, can I?” Jeno replied and Jaemin’s smile grew. 

“Maybe you’re the one that’s date-able,” he said without thinking. The second it left his lips he wanted to take it back. But the tinge of red that touched Jeno’s face before he brought the menu high enough to hide himself was worth it. Jaemin looked at his own menu as he said, “so why did you ask me here?”

Jeno took a beat before he responded. “If I’m being honest,” he began, he still hadn’t come out from behind the menu, “I was looking at this kind of like a date.”

Just as Jeno peeked over the top, Jaemin’s jaw clattered to the tabletop. Oh wait, no that wasn’t—”Shit!” he shouted earning some nasty glares as the glass candle he’d been toying with shattered against the floor.

The waiter on duty was over in seconds to clear the mess and Jaemin apologized profusely while Jeno stared at him wide-eyed. “I, uh, didn’t think you’d hate it that much…” Jeno said, carefully, once it was a safezone, again. 

Jaemin immediately jumped into a fluster of awkward hand movements and stumbling over his own words. “No-no-no-no-no, that’s not what I, no! No, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t mean it like that!” Could he have spit out a more awkward sentence? His blundering didn’t seem to help, Jeno remained looking embarrassed. He took a moment to collect himself. “I meant; I’m really glad you see it that way.” He smiled.

And Jeno smiled back. Devastatingly beautiful, as it always was.

Slow at first, but he let it grow, until the embarrassment was more affectionate than damaging. “Do you want to order, then?” 

There was such a wonder in the way the world worked. To the advantage of some and to the neglect of others. And right now, in this moment, every star had shone its spotlight of fortune right on him. And he’d never felt more comfortable on a date than this, with sparkles in the air that seeped into their conversation, making them glow.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

“You went on a date with Lee Jeno?” Donghyuck said with no delicately masked shock. Renjun carried a similar expression.

Jaemin, unsure if he should be offended or not, pouted. “Didn’t think I could do it?”

“No,” his  _ best friends _ said at the same time.

“Wow,” he nodded, “guess I know who to never turn to with my hopes and dreams, again.”

Renjun scoffed. “Dude, you were literally on about how you were ‘hopeless’ and ‘never going to get him’ not  _ two days ago, _ ” Donghyuck pointed out. 

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to be my best friends, you’ve gotta change your mind really fast if I do!” Jaemin fired back.

“The fuck?! But we had no faith!” Donghyuck raised his fists up ready to go to war, Jaemin slid up his own sleeves.

“I can’t believe this—” Jaemin began to yell back but Renjun, ever the peacemaker, slammed his foot down. Literally.

Unfortunately, he missed the floor and hit the beanbag he and Donghyuck were sharing, therefore, due to the unfortunate existence of physics, the latter was flung from the sheer opposing force right onto the floor.

“I see this as a win for me,” Jaemin immediately smiled at where his friend was treating the knee he’d bumped with a scowl. 

“I don’t care,” Renjun deadpanned, “how did this happen?”

“What do you mean how did this happen? You literally watched Donghyuck pick a fight—”

“Not that you blockish garden-hose,” Renjun snapped, “I’m referring to the date.”

Jaemin blinked and Donghyuck found his original place with a grumble. “Oh, I don’t actually know,” he thought for a moment, trying to connect some dots, “he asked me to get dinner and then told me it was a date.”

This seemed to surprise the one with the newly bruised knee. “He only told you it was a date when you got there?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin had a quick flashback to almost passing out when he realized the person telling him they were on a date was the guy he’d been crushing on for months. “I almost had a heart attack, I broke a glass candle.”

Donghyuck perked up. “How so?—”

“No one cares right now, Donghyuck,” Renjun ushered, barely sparing his beanbag-mate a glance, “Jaemin, that definitely means Jeno was insecure about how you’d react.”

Jeno had turned quite red when he’d mentioned ‘date-able’, he supposed the insecurity ran both ways in their relationship. “I guess.”

“I’d say that’s a good thing.” Donghyuck suddenly added.

Jaemin quirked a brow. “Literally how is that a good thing? Insecurity shouldn’t be rewarded, it should be overcome.”

“Where’d you pull that shit from?” Donghyuck muttered before shaking himself off and continuing his original thought, “I mean, that means he had no idea you were crushing on him before, continuing to solidify the idea that you definitely ‘didn’t draw him’” 

Donghyuck looked smug, but it sent chills up Jaemin’s spine so he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, mimicking Renjun’s current expression. “Since when are you in favour of Jeno not knowing it was me.”

His friend shrugged. “Since I realized love and crushes are dumb and it’s best the other person never finds out how deep feelings run when they gave no previous indication that there was anything more than platonic or lack of any feelings at all.”

Silence.

_ Oh shit _ , Jaemin thought the same moment Renjun said “what the fuck” aloud. 

Donghyuck sighed. “Well, that was a mouthful.”

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

There was not a single mention of a label on any kind of relationship between himself and Jeno. Not one. Not for the next three weeks where there were constant little dates, whether that was in between classes or in the evening or anytime they could. They often found ways to meet up. And Jaemin couldn’t stop the growing elation in his chest that this would be something that lasted. Despite all warnings his rational mind was telling him to beware of, like that all relationships were fragile and no stability could ever be guaranteed. 

Jaemin rarely ever listened to his brain when it came to Lee Jeno. 

Sometimes they went to the park that sat just beside the anthropology building, sometimes they would go to the cafe on fifth street with the chocolate shaped bells, sometimes it would be the cinema to see whatever latest blockbuster, sometimes it was just in either dorm where they could talk for hours without interruption. Once, they went to the aquarium where Jeno fell in love with the moon jellyfish underneath a changing, pulsing, spectrum of lights, and Jaemin fell in love with the view of a man watching a tank of heartless, majestic, beautiful creatures float with an artificial current. Once, they went to see the final instalment of  _ The Avengers _ in 3D, where Jeno left with a shining rim of tears around his eyes and Jaemin left with his heart clenching at seeing a man cry for a character so loved by all. Once, they went to the modern art exhibition at their nearest museum where Jeno was in awe of the detail in a sculpture of a spider and Jaemin thought that all art paled in comparison to the man in front of him.

To say Jaemin had a common theme of observation in all their dates would be an understatement. 

With every conversation they learned more and more about one another, letting the details sink in like a new mind to understand the other. There was nothing in any previous weeks that could’ve prepared him for this. Realizing that his observations through drawings had simply scratched at some of the surfaces of who Lee Jeno was. 

He found there was little better than the feeling of someone he cared so deeply for telling him the person he had fallen for was real.

They were lying side by side on Jaemin’s carpet when Jeno asked: “Will you ever show me your art?” 

Jaemin stiffened, they weren’t quite touching so he assumed the other wouldn’t feel it. He attempted a chuckle, but it came out hollow with a tinge of nervousness. “Maybe.”

Jeno sat up a tad, resting his weight on one arm so he could look down on Jaemin. “Why ‘maybe’?” he inquired and Jaemin didn’t really like where this conversation was headed, “self-conscious?” Jeno teased.

Jaemin gave him a knowing look.  _ Art styles are recognizable _ , “you haven’t unlocked that level of closeness, yet,”  _ all the drawings are of you _ , “therefore, no art.”

Jeno acted shocked, but there was a grin beneath it. “ _ I _ haven’t unlocked it? Has anyone else?”

Jaemin bit his lip,  _ really _ wishing this conversation wasn’t going in this direction. “Renjun and Hyuck, but that’s only because Renjun grabbed my sketchbook while Hyuck pinned me down,” he grinned at the memory of him thrashing against Donghyuck’s surprising iron grip, “in hindsight, I could’ve just shown it to them, they were so chill about it.”

“Hm… they forced you, did they?” Jeno said and were Jaemin not best friends with Lee Donghyuck, the devil himself, he wouldn’t have detected the mischievous undertone of the words. 

Jaemin wasn’t as fast as the other, though. Jeno dove for the bag where  _ both _ his sketchbooks were conveniently placed. With the bag in his clutches he stood behind the desk, out of Jaemin’s reach, holding it tightly to his chest as Jaemin stared at him with panicked wide-eyes. “Don’t you dare,” Jaemin hissed.

Jeno laughed, such a sweet sound but it throbbed in the moment. “I know you’re a good artist, Jaemin,” he said and the part of Jaemin that still fanboy’d over Jeno felt a rush of excitement, “why don’t you want to show me?”

“It’s private,” Jaemin muttered and he watched in horror as Jeno pulled the first sketchbook out—the university one. 

“Is it?” Jeno wiggled it in the air, grinning as he taunted the other, before reaching his hand back in and pulling out the personal sketchbook.

“And that one is  _ really _ private,” Jaemin blurted, trying to plan how he could reach the very  _ athletic _ Jeno before he opened it up and saw his face on every page. 

But, in hindsight, Jaemin should’ve chosen less enticing words because Jeno’s eyes suddenly had a glint of increased interest as he eyed the second sketchbook. “Is it?”

He slid the university one back in Jaemin’s bag and the owner watched in poorly masked terror as Jeno reached to open his personal sketchbook.

Without warning, Jaemin let out a battle cry and sprinted around the desk. Jeno just laughed and swiftly moved to the other side. He waved the sketchbook in another taunt. His eyes simply screaming  _ come and get it _ . Jaemin moved again, but it was once more, easily avoided, this time by Jeno disappearing behind the bed. “If you can’t catch me I guess I’ll just have to look inside—” Jaemin leapt over the bed, much higher than he thought he could jump. Adrenaline had a way of forcing the seemingly impossible. He tackled Jeno to the ground, straddling him, and focused on ripping the sketchbook out of the other’s grasp. Jeno, despite being trapped on the floor, was laughing as he held on tightly. His eyes were almost shut with how hard he was laughing and when Jaemin finally freed the sketchbook and had tossed it aside, he joined in. 

And when the laughter died down, it was only because of the realization that their faces were, perhaps, only inches apart. And if either of them moved it would close the space entirely. Jaemin didn’t miss the way Jeno looked from his eyes to his lips and that his glance rested there longer than a coincidence would be. Nor did he miss the way Jeno rose, so his back wasn’t touching the ground and there was just a little less space and a slightly more accessible angle were Jaemin to close the rest of it. 

His heartbeat naturally picked up its pace, thumping restlessly against his ribcage as he moved his hands higher so there were almost aligned with Jeno’s shoulders. Just so, in case he leaned down, he would have the balance to hold still. He dropped, slowly, inching toward the other’s lips, until they were mere centimetres apart. Until he could feel the shuddering breaths the other took. Until their lips touched as softly as an angel’s whisper.

And the door flew open with a “ _ Jaemin _ !” and the person who was called flew back against the wall, off Jeno who seemed too in a daze to process what had just happened. “Oh shit,” was the followup as Donghyuck stared right at where the two had just separated. Jaemin wasted no time to shoot daggers at his roommate who didn’t move from the doorway. 

Jeno snapped out of it a second later. He rose up a little higher, a redness creeping up his face. “I was, uh, actually just about to leave,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically sheepish. He turned his attention to Jaemin, again, “see you, yeah?”

Jaemin only nodded, still glued to the back wall. 

Donghyuck, to his credit, at least had the decency to say “that was my bad, boys,” as Jeno walked by him on his way out, giving him a pained smile. When the door shut behind him he turned back to Jaemin. “Damn, dude, you have no idea how bad I fucking feel right now,” he sighed as he walked over to his side of the room to grab a book he’d forgotten earlier that day. 

Jaemin let out a groan. The  _ luck _ he had, or rather, lacked. “I can’t believe you, oh my god.” 

“Sorry,” Donghyuck winced, “I’m sure the chance’ll come again, though, so I’m not  _ too _ sorry.” 

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his roommate waved it off, “I’m studying with Mark today, don’t wait up.”

Jaemin gave a small nod before the door shut a second time. He was alone again. And despite the frustration that sat dutifully in his head, his heart had never felt so alive. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

“ _That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,_ ” Renjun said the moment Jaemin had dropped his pencil case into his backpack. 

“What? Why?” he responded, furrowing his brow. 

“ _ Uh _ — _ maybe because your digital piece is due, like, tomorrow and I can bet  _ literal _ money that you’ve barely started, if at all, _ ” his friend deadpanned and there was little Jaemin could do in terms of a rebuttal because it was very much valid. 

Jaemin sighed, though. “I’m still going.”

“ _ Yeah, I know _ ,” Renjun groaned, “ _ I’m also making this way too dramatic so let’s end it. _ ”

Jaemin laughed but it was cut short by the reason he called in the first place. “Have you seen Hyuck?” His roommate had left extra early this morning and had yet to return despite his classes having ended two or so hours ago. “It’s not like it’s not normal for him to just vanish for a while but my original lunch plans were with him—”

“—and  _ now _ , you have a date with Jeno, honestly, Jaemin, do you think you can fool me into thinking this isn’t an upgrade for you?” the know-it-all tone seeped through his every word. 

Jaemin rolled his eyes, knowing Renjun would definitely predict it. Even if it was an upgrade—in  _ theory _ —it didn’t mean he didn’t want to go with his friend. “So, you haven’t seen him?”

“No,” his friend sighed, “I dropped a text a while ago and he didn’t reply, I thought he might just be doing extra credit for his photography professor, again.”

Jaemin zipped up the bag and slung it over his shoulder once his jacket was in place. “Yeah, maybe,” but he wasn’t convinced, not quite yet, “let me know if he texts you, though.”

Renjun gave a nonchalant  _ mhm _ before ending the call in his usual manner. He smiled to himself again when he brought his phone down and found a text from his date waiting. It was impossible for him to control the surge of joy that arose from it. 

He was off, typing aggressively to Jeno as he walked.

 

❋

 

 **[19:01]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

hey r u almost here

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[19:02]**

yeS

yes

omw

**[19:02]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

theres legit negative stress

was just curious

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[19:02]**

k well

IM stressed anyways

so im omw

**[19:02]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

fine

but thats not my fault

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[19:02]**

>:))

im skipping my art project for this

**[19:03]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

damn

still not my fault

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[19:03]**

its kinda ur fault

**[19:03]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

ok

tysm

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[19:03]**

wait no

**[19:03]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

actually have sumthing important to tell u

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[19:03]**

what

what is

it?

**[19:04]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

2 important things but yea

_ Na Jaemin  _ **[19:04]**

o

im basically here

oH shit thts u

omw

**[19:04]** _~The~ Lee Jeno_

👍

 

❋

 

Jaemin picked up the pace the moment he saw Jeno waving at him, eye smile creeping upon his face. Breathtaking, as Lee Jeno always was, always had been, and always would be. It was almost painful, when Jaemin reached into his chest, to know that he had violated this man’s life with his drawings, only to have been exposed and run. 

He wanted to believe, from the bottom of his heart, that were he to turn back the time, his actions would be entirely different. 

But even now—with how quickly their relationship had progressed, and how close they now were—he could never determine whether that thought was a lie. Because the truth was all the underlying aspects of their relationship were built on nothing more than Jaemin’s constant lying. And Jeno didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve it then, he didn’t deserve it now, and he should never deserve it again. 

He looked again at the smile that put dentist advertising to shame, and knew that even if he decided to walk away right now and let Jeno live his life. He wouldn’t. Jaemin was selfish like that. 

His chest tightened with the weight of regret and longing to go back and do it all again, correctly. But every step closer to the man he’d longed after for far too long lightened his heart and breathed air into his lungs. This would work. And once it worked, once it was hung in the stars, he would tell him. 

There was a movement in the corner of his eye but it was way too fast for him to process what it could be. Luckily for him, his body did and his feet froze in mid step just as that movement came to a halt in front of him. Once again, before his mind caught up to the situation, the shadow with the tear-swollen eyes punched him right in the face. 

Jaemin was falling before he even knew what hit him. There was a shout in the distance and if Jaemin wasn’t so disoriented he would’ve seen Jeno running in his direction. He looked up and met the glistening cheeks and disheveled hair he knew all too well. 

“I trusted you,” Donghyuck seethed through his teeth. His fists were bunched against his sides but his right knuckle was split open. 

The moment Jaemin noticed it, the pain from the punch he’d received hit him all at once. Like another strike. The bridge of his nose began screaming and there was a light trickle down his chin suggesting his lip had been split alongside it. The agony was accumulating in its intensity and Jaemin reached up to touch his face, completely dumbfounded. He turned his attention back to Donghyuck, still at a loss. “What?” he sounded gargled.

His best friend’s eyes flared up, they almost literally turned red with fire. He raised his fist as though he would strike again but something in his expression cracked and he turned away and stormed off. 

Thoughts immediately consumed him as he merely stared at the other’s back. He grasped at the strands of his memory, trying to figure out what he was referring to. But it didn’t take long before the lightheadedness got the best of him and he blacked out beneath a growing crowd of concerned bystanders and the piercing gaze of Jeno’s terrified eyes. 

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

The first thing Jaemin saw when he came to was a light blinding enough he winced. It took him another moment to realize that what he felt beneath him wasn’t concrete, but a cushioned surface. His eyes adjusted fast, but with that came the head splitting ache that caused him to instinctively reach to his temple. What he found, however, is that the pain originated from slightly below that. He reached to touch his nose. 

“The nurse said it wasn’t broken,” a voice whispered beside him. He whipped around and was face to face with eyes that had been filled with so much terror. 

“What happened?” Jaemin asked, his voice was raspy and it pained him to speak, like glass shards were stuffed down his throat. 

Jeno winced. “Donghyuck came up and punched you.”

“Unfortunately, I remember that part,” Jaemin sighed.

“One of the girls called the campus doctor and they brought you here. They figured out pretty fast that it wasn’t broken,” Jeno elaborated. Jaemin noticed his hand was resting gently on the bed linen, just above his.

“Oh.”

“They took Donghyuck in,” he continued and Jaemin’s mind finally properly caught up to the situation. 

“What? When?” he winced when his face began to throb, “where is he now?”

“I’m not sure,” Jeno admitted, “but he punched another student, I doubt they’re going to let him off easy…”

Jaemin let out a shaky breath and leaned back. He thought back to the moment it happened, what had lead up to that point? What had he missed? “I don’t understand.”

“We rarely understand violence,” Jeno muttered but Jaemin shook his head. Donghyuck may have been the type to initiate passive aggressiveness or seem like the devil incarnate. But there was  _ nothing _ in the ten years they’d been best friends that indicated in anyway that Donghyuck would ever resort to violence. Not unless he felt absolutely devastated by something. Not unless he felt there was nothing else that would make the other person feel the same thing he felt over—

Jeno was rubbing soothing circles onto Jaemin’s hand. But he didn’t feel soothed in that moment. In fact, he could only simply stare blankly at the other while his head put together the pieces of a puzzle that shouldn’t have fit. They shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have because there was no way that—”You.” 

Startled, Jeno looked up to meet his eyes. Jaemin searched them for an answer, rather,  _ the _ answer. The one that he wanted to see and that one that would change the course of every event that would come after this one. There was nothing but a hollow, distant fear. And that was all Jaemin needed to piece the last bits together. 

“You did this,” Jaemin’s voice shook.

Jeno’s eyes widened and his fingers stopped moving. “I’m not sure what you’re—”

“Don’t lie.” It came out so harshly, like ice against skin. “Don’t lie to me, Jeno.”

He seemed surprised at the change in his tone. “Jaemin…”

“No,” he bit out, right before his voice broke, “I trusted you.”

Panic filled Jeno’s eyes. “I can explain—”

“Not this,” Jaemin couldn’t move, couldn’t shake his head, couldn’t bite his tongue, couldn’t move a muscle aside from spitting the poisonous words at the person he adored so much, “you  _ told _ Mark.”

“Jaemin, listen to me,” Jeno sounded desperate, he looked desperate, “Mark was distraught! He sounded so broken, I—I, I didn’t want him to suffer an unrequited love—”

That lit up a flame of rage inside Jaemin, one that broke through the iciness. “ _ It wasn’t your secret to tell! _ ” He was almost shouting and Jeno seemed to shrink in on himself even more. 

“I didn’t want him to suffer, Jaemin,” he pleaded, trying to grab for the other’s arm but Jaemin pulled away, as if his touch would burn him. 

“We all have to suffer every once in a while, Jeno!” he didn’t hold back from shouting now, “not everyone is lucky enough  _ to be loved back _ ! Donghyuck’s going to  _ hate _ me forever, Jeno, don’t you get that?!” he felt a wildness in his eyes and it seemed to terrify the other but he didn’t care, “ _ he’s going to hate me forever because of you!” _

“Jaemin—”

“ _ No! _ ” the shrill in his voice silenced the world.

There was nothing. Nothing but the shattering of every image he’d painted of Lee Jeno, the shattering of every assumption, the shattering of every lie, the shattering of every pedestal he’d worked so hard to climb. Nothing left of a relationship he had grown to love.

And then there really was nothing.

Nothing he could feel.

“Get out.” 

“What?” Jeno asked, eyes still wide with terror.

Jaemin turned to him. There was nothing in his eyes. No ember of flame, no shard of ice, no glow of warmth, no twinkle of happiness. Nothing. “Get out.” The void of his heart echoed in his voice. 

He was alone within seconds. That nothingness spread from limb to limb until it reached the melodic strums of his heartstrings. And snapped them to pieces. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last time I apologized for being late by about a month and a half? Well! It's your lucky day because I have the pleasure of posting this three and a half months late!!! Can you believe it??!?!/! 
> 
> I'm a talented author with a great mind for consistency!!!!!
> 
> Therefore, I'd like to apologize and I hope you do enjoy this chapter, even if it's messy with a twinkle of angst despite me being unable to write angst at all :)
> 
> Kudos are lovely I love them a lot but comments really make my day and I kept reading them over and over again as I was struggling to find the motivation to write this chapter <3 so thank you to everyone who took the time to comment I love you so much
> 
> funfact: I finished my exams, got into my top choice university, and will (hopefully) be able to finish this ff over summer now ^^ let's see if I can, for once, stick to my goal of posting more often, enjoy!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> [follow me on twitter!!](http://twitter.com/wired_roses)


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